


My Captain

by Ladygr0wls, Nikotheamazingspoonklepto



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, Kidlock, M/M, The relationship between Mycroft and Sherlock is purely platonic and very fluffy, in later chapters smut, mystrade, some underage sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-10 13:04:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2026125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladygr0wls/pseuds/Ladygr0wls, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikotheamazingspoonklepto/pseuds/Nikotheamazingspoonklepto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Kidlock fluff fic, it's originally an RP and unfinished</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Kidlock fluff fic, it's originally an RP and unfinished

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **EDIT**  
> Niko here!!!!  
> So, I'm going to start editing this adorable fic for you all - continuity, grammar and spelling. We wrote this soooo long ago. 
> 
> Of course, new chapters are now going to be added! Stay tuned. <3

Mycroft Holmes, age fourteen, nearly six foot tall, a bit chubby but he loves his sweets, can you blame him? He is dressed in his school uniform, dress pants, blazer and tie with a white dress shirt. His ginger hair combed back. He waits outside the limousine for his baby brother, Sherlock, age seven, a little over four feet tall and has the wildest head of dark brown curls to ever born to a child.

"Sherlock!" He calls for his baby brother, waving him over when he sees that familiar mop of curls as he sulks out of the private school doors. He too is in his dress uniform, a baby blue polo shirt, and khakis. Mycroft's lips form a hard line, trying to not show his displeasure. Another bad day at school for his younger brother. Sherlock flinches slightly as Mycroft calls his name, he sighs and trudges closer, letting his curls flop over his face to conceal the now purple bruise above his eyebrow. 

'Can't he just make one friend? He didn't make a single friend this year at all...' Mycroft waits by the limousine, not running forward to meet his brother, having been demanded by Sherlock to not do that, as the other kids made fun of him for it. Sherlock quickly slips between his brother and the open limo door, scooting into his normal seat. He slumps against the window and crosses his arms, refusing to speak as per usual after a bad day.

'Why does everybody have to be so stupid?' The younger Holmes asks himself, though Mycroft wasn't stupid, Sherlock knows his brother is brilliant, despite his prominent idiocy. 

Mycroft gets into the limo and sits beside his brother, telling the driver that they can go now.

"Bad day Sherlock?" He asks running his fingers through his brother's curls. Mycroft shifts closer so that his thigh touches the small boy's, his arm wraps around Sherlock and pulls him into his side. He can tell Sherlock wants to put up a fuss about being coddled, but instead, lets Mycroft hold him and pet his hair.  
"Will you tell me about it Sherly?" He asks in the most loving and comforting way he can manage. The poor kid had been unable to find a friend or acquaintance since he started going to this school. That was three years ago.

The younger boy nods quietly, before sighing a bit dramatically. "There's nothing to tell, My, nobody likes me because I'm the know-it-all freak." Sherlock shifts so he's leaning against his big brother now, "They're all stupid and boring anyway." He huffs slightly. 

"You'll find someone who wants to be your friend because you are the know-it-all freak one day Sherlock. In fact, they will love and admire that about you." Mycroft explains quietly, still running his fingers through his brother's curls. Sherlock winces slightly when Mycroft's fingers unintentionally hit the bruise on his forehead. He seethes and bites his lip. Mycroft notices the wince on his brother's face and frowns. He noticed everything about his brother. Then there is the biting of the lip. He's in pain. Hesitantly he brushes Sherlock's curls away from his forehead and finds the purple bruise above his eyebrow.

"Sherly! Who did this?" He cups Sherlock's chin and turns his head so that he can examine the bruise better. It is horrible, he's surprised that who ever or whatever hit him did not cut open his brow.  
Who would dare to hurt his brother? The poor thing, he hasn't got any friends, so why hurt him too? Isn't the emotional damage enough for those bullies?

Sherlock jerks away from his older brother, covering the bruise with his hand. "It's nothing Mycroft, just some stupid idiots idea of fun, leave it." He scoots a little bit away from his brother, looking up at him with a scowl. His gaze narrows slightly, "Don't give me that look, Mycroft. I don't need your sympathy, I'll live it's just a bruise." He turns to look out the window at the rolling views. With a sigh, he slumps back into the opposite door. Mycroft sighs, but does not shift away from Sherlock, allowing him to lean against the door again.

"Sherlock, you're my brother. I worry about you. You haven't any friends and the teachers do nothing about your bullies. Why don't you try to talk to these boys and try to get them to leave you alone? You have three days of school left before summer vacation. What is the worst that could happen? At least you will have tried to get them to stop."  


Mycroft tries to reach out and touch his brother's curls again, but the seven-year-old flinches a bit. "Just think about it, Sherlock. I'm hoping that next year will be better." 

"I don't want to talk to them Mycroft, they wouldn't listen anyway, I'm pretty sure all they hear anyway is that'd it be a fantastic idea to hit that annoying kid because I'm insecure or other issues they may have." He pouts at the window, before turning back to face his brother. "And I don't need friends, how would friends help me? The teachers are all daft idiots... I don't need anybody's pity either. I'm fine this way, I don't care what they think, it doesn't matter." Sherlock sighs and lets his head loll against the window

Mycroft shifts in his seat and smiles, "What if we go to the Summer Home for a couple weeks when school lets out? I'm sure you can find a friend there to play with and maybe do your experiments with."

As soon as Mycroft mentions the summer house Sherlock perks up, "Oh could we?" He asks, Sherlock absolutely loved the summer home, lots of opportunities for experiments and his preferred solitude. 

Mycroft smiles and pulls Sherlock to his side, his arm around him again.  


"Of course. It'll be fun, just you and me and Winston." He tucks a wild curl behind Sherlock's ear and kisses the top of his head. 

Ever since their father passed away, Mother had been unable to cope with it. She has been staying with her sister for the past year and a half to try and repair her mental state. She visits her sons from time to time and they go to see her when they can. Because of all this, it is up to Mycroft to look after Sherlock, make sure he is safe and cared for. Ensure his studies not suffering, nor his health and of course make sure he is happy.

"We have to go to the beach a few times though. Especially the first day. I want you to get some vitamin D before you go and hide in your little lab." 

Sherlock scowls at Mycroft's words, "Fine, but I'm going to gather specimens and samples the whole time." He leans into his brother as they continue to go in silence.  


As soon as the limo stops though, Sherlock leaps out of the door and runs into the large house. 

He mostly liked living with only his brother and the house's staff, which was the butler/driver and a housekeeper who both cooked. But sometimes he missed the comfort of his mum, but Mycroft tried his hardest and he was grateful for that, he wasn't the little selfish brat everyone thought he was.

Mycroft smiles and follows after Sherlock into their home, but at a much slower pace. He thanks Winston for the ride, informing him of the trip to the summer home when school lets out.

Sherlock runs up the stairs to his room and throws down his school bag, flopping down on his bed. After a few moments, he bites his lip and sits back up, grabbing his bag and unzipping it. He peeks into the bag and pulls out the samples he'd collected that day during recess. He allows a small smile to slip across his lips, mold was one of his favorite things to experiment on.

The house keeper then comes an tells Mycroft that dinner is at 4:30. When everything is taken care of, Mycroft retreats to his room to change into his house clothes. Black slacks and a gray t-shirt and a navy blue robe.

Soon he is knocking on Sherlock's door, "Sherly, let's get started on our homework, shall we?"

Doing their work for school together, no matter how much or how little has been a practice that Mycroft had encouraged since mom moved in with her sister. The more time He has with Sherlock, the better, otherwise, Mycroft fears that Sherlock will become antisocial and depressed.

Sherlock sighs a pushes back from his cluttered desk, leaving the experiment to go dig out his homework from his bag. 

"Coming, My!" He calls as he pulls on a hoodie and then opens his door, giving his older brother a small smile, "Though I already finished most of it during recess." Which was true, Sherlock usually spent their outside time in the library doing homework (or research) or out collecting samples. Today he'd had time for both. He follows his brother into their father's old study, it's where they usually did their schoolwork. Sherlock liked it, he liked the books and despite the fact that their father wasn't the best, he misses him and the study made him feel closer to him. Mycroft sits at the desk and pulls Sherlock into his lap so that he can reach the desk top comfortably. Sherlock's homework placed on the surface to the left.  


"So what do we have to do? Study for your final exams?" Mycroft's own work is placed on the desk to the right, his study packet for his calculus final.

Sherlock nods, "And I need to finish this maths review worksheet," he taps the worksheet with his pencil before he taps the eraser on his bottom lip. "I doubt final exams will be hard for me." He said, looking down at the paper and doing a few problems. "What do you have to do?" He asks, glancing up at his brother, pencil still on his paper.

Mycroft looks down at Sherlock with a smile, his hand still digging around for his mechanical pencil in the bottom on his bag. "Calculus, want to try one of the problems when you've finished your maths? It is quite simple really." Mycroft has no doubts that Sherlock would be able to do the calculus problems he is studying. Hell, the only reason why he is doing it is that it is part of the final grade, doing the study packet.

Sherlock smiles up at his brother, nodding quickly. He looks back to his work and finishes the worksheet quickly. "Done!" He smiles as he lifts the paper for Mycroft to see, letting his brother double check his work for him like always.  


"I heard my teacher's saying that they were considering putting me in advanced classes next year." He tells his brother happily, tapping his pencil on the desk rhythmically.

Mycroft rests his cheek on top of Sherlock's head as he checks his brother's work. Perfect as usual. So brilliant.

"Oh? Excellent, how advanced? Think they'll skip a few levels or just one?" Mycroft tucks Sherlock's work aside and places a blank piece of paper in front of him, he writes out the first question on the paper for Sherlock from his calculus work. 

Sherlock shrugs, Watching his brother write, "I don't know, I'd like to go up a few levels, my lessons are so dull."

"Want to try it by yourself first?" Mycroft looks at the question he'd been working on, the one Sherlock will be starting and moves on to the next one. If there was anyone more proud of Sherlock, other than their mother, Mycroft would take up jogging daily. Thankfully he can say that there is no one of the sort.

Sherlock peers down at the problem Mycroft set up for him, "I can try it by myself." He leans over to start the problem, pencil to paper. After a minute or so, Sherlock sets his pencil down. He looks up to his brother, "How's that?" He asks, giving his brother a little smile.  


Sherlock would never admit it to anyone, but he's always striven for his brother's approval and pride, wanting to do just as well as him. Though sometimes he hated his brother, he would always love him.

Mycroft looks over Sherlock's work and nods, then smiles down at Sherlock, "Perfect, yet again Sherlock." He smiles and hugs the small boy, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "You will certainly be moved up at least two levels. For your sake, I hope its two or three. You will excel at the more difficult courses if you are already doing calculus!" Mycroft cuddles Sherlock and ruffles his curls to bother him slightly, "You're going to do so well in the world Sherly!"

Sherlock scowls slightly at his brother's coddling and affections, though a smile breaks through after a minute or two, "Thank you, My." He leans over to grab one of his texts and flips it open, "I do love a good challenge. The last of my tests are tomorrow," he settles the text so he can read it, "So I'll read while you finish your calculus." He slides off his brother's lap and goes to settles into one of the reading chairs in around the study. Soon his nose is buried in the book, and he's gone off to his little mind palace.

"Alright Sherly. I won't be long." Mycroft smiles after his brother and turns back to his work. Quickly the study packet is complete and Mycroft is relieved. Work is done and it is 4:15.

"We should get cleaned up for dinner." Mycroft announces as he gets to his feet. He goes over to where Sherlock is reading and leans over his shoulder.

"Hmm?" Sherlock looks up at his brother before snapping the text shut, "Okay, then." He slips off the chair and stretches before turning to Mycroft, he gives him a wicked smile, "Bet I can beat you to the bathroom!" He sprints out the study door, leaving his books and papers behind. He'll grab those later. 

"Sherlock!" Mycroft cries as he chases after his brother. "You know I hate running!" Nevertheless, the slightly chubby fourteen year old chases his baby brother. He does catch up, but of course, Sherlock gets there before him.

"You had a head start you cheater!" He ruffles Sherlock's hair, making it messier than usual. Sherlock laughs, poking his tongue out at his older brother. 

The water is turned on, Mycroft balancing the hot and cold so neither of them gets burned. He grabs a washcloth and soaks it, plopping the wet, warm material on Sherlock's face. 

"Thank you, My." Sherlock chuckles and scrubs his face with the washcloth, being careful with his bruise, wringing it out afterward in the sink and hanging it to dry. He looks in the mirror at his brother, then himself with a small smile as he fixes his hair so it's not going to stick to his drying face.

Another cloth is grabbed for Mycroft and he wipes away the sweat and dirt from the day's stresses. Afterward, he feels much more refreshed.

"What are we eating tonight?" Sherlock asks his older brother. Mycroft follows suit with Sherlock's actions and hangs up the washcloth.

"I don't know," He takes Sherlock's hand, leading him out of the bathroom. "Something delicious I bet, Mrs. Hudson and Winston are excellent cooks."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **EDIT**  
> Niko here to edit chapter two, enjoy!

Sherlock, for once, is happy all day in school, as well as leaving it, nothing the other children seemed to say could bring him down, tomorrow he and his brother would be at the summer home, and he had good news for his brother.

He practically tackles Mycroft in a hug in front of their limo, "My! My! I passed all my tests!" He tells his brother giddily, practically jumping with happiness and pride. Mycroft picks Sherlock up and hugs him tightly, laughing excitedly. Sherlock laughs as his brother scoops him up and spins him, usually he wouldn't ever allow Mycroft to do such a thing in public, or at all for the matter. He's just so excited at the moment, that he just hugs Mycroft tighter and smiles more, one of his real smiles.

"Congratulations!" Mycroft spins in a circle, laughing excitedly with Sherlock in his arms. "I'm so proud of you Sherlock!" He presses a kiss to his brother's cheek. "What do you want to do when we get to the Summer Home then? We're leaving tonight instead!"

"Can we go check out the tidal pools? Before sunset?" The younger Holmes asks excitedly, the tidal pools were the best place to find samples, usually, he'd go each morning and each night of their trip to the summer house, when and if he could, since the house's backyard was the beach. Sherlock didn't entirely loathe the beach, after all.

"Of course, you earned!" Mycroft presses another kiss to Sherlock's cheek and then puts him down, ushering him into the limo. "Winston's already packed out bags, let's go."

Winston takes off and both Sherlock and himself are practically bouncing in their seats. "Don't worry, I told him to pack all of your favorite things."

"Thank you, My." Sherlock turns to stare out the window at the rolling landscape, a small smile playing on his lips.

A few hours later they arrive, and Sherlock pretty much jumps out of the limo to the boot to grab his bags.

After Winston finally gets out and opens the boot, hands him his bags, he's off to the house's front porch to settle his bags while he reaches for the spare key on the jam. He soon opens the door and rushes inside.

"Hurry up, Mycroft! The tide'll be in soon!" He calls back loudly at his brother. Sherlock wanted to put his things away and get appropriately dressed and equipped for their trip down to the pools as quickly as possible.

"Coming Sherlock!" Mycroft follows after his baby brother. Although he is a bit tired, he loved being there for Sherlock.

Sure it's hard practically being a parent at the young age of fourteen, but it is something he has to do. Sherlock needs him and if he is supposed to be the one to raise and praise him. Guide him and be there. Then fine. Mycroft will do it. He loves Sherlock with all his heart after all.

Soon they have things put away and they are in their beach clothes, rushing out with a bucket full of sampling tools for the Holmes brothers to collect specimens.

That night the Holmes brothers have fun walking amongst the pools, examining the animals and collecting samples until the stars came out. Then the brothers walked back and changed into their jams after a quick shower ("Sea salt isn't good for your skin, Sherlock!") and laid out on the back porch to look at the stars. After which Sherlock promptly fell asleep, leaving his brother to tuck him in.

\-----

"Bye, Mycroft!" Sherlock calls after his brother as he shoves his chucks on, standing on the porch, wearing a clean white tee shirt and rolled up jeans per Mycroft's request, "I'll be down by the pools!" He shouts as he slings his leather satchel's strap over his shoulder and hops down the stone step towards the beach.

Mycroft waves his brother off, instead of going with him this morning, he decided to read a book for pleasure and drink some tea.  
Sherlock strides over the sand and towards the pools. After he hits the stones he stops at large pool and takes off his shoes and ties the laces together, setting them at the pool's edge.

Sherlock wades into the pool carefully and gently picks up a shell, examining it before placing it in his satchel. He spots a small crab and kneels to examine the tiny crustacean with interest. He barely even notices the other boy who's approaching the pools.

John Watson, just turned age nine and barely hitting three feet and two-quarters is wandering down the beach his family had dragged him to for the summer. His sister Harry is off looking for some pretty girls instead of watching him the way she was supposed to. So here he is, wandering down the beach, dragging a stick he had found. Bored and lonely. There are no other kids around right now. Too early in the season and too early in the morning. The sun is beautiful and warms his skin, the ocean licks at his feet. At least it's a nice day.

The pools that he likes to hang around normally are right ahead and oh? Whats this? Another kid? John smiles to himself, very shyly and approaches the boy [or is that a girl?] with pale skin and head of dark curls. 

"Hello." John greets, fiddling with the stick in his hands. 

Sherlock's gaze flickers to the other boy and huffs in acknowledgment before he goes back to examining the crab, cupping it in his hands before settling it back carefully. He stands and wades out of the pool, ignoring the other boy. And picks up his sneakers and makes his way to the next pool. As he kneels down to pick up an interesting bit of coral Mycroft's words from earlier that month come back to him, about making friends. Sherlock rolls his eyes at himself, what a ridiculous idea, I don't NEED friends.

John frowns as he is only glanced at, the boy moving on to the next pool. Sherlock wasn't paying much attention when he stepped next, he stepped on a small tangle of seaweed and his foot slipped out from under him. He falls into the shallow pool, head hitting the edge of the stone.

John is about to move on when he hears a splash and turns to watch that curly head smack onto the rocks. Frightened for the boy he rushes to his side and crouches next to him in the pool, soaking his trousers up the thigh.

"Ow-" Sherlock mutters, sitting up, and rubbing the back of his head, there'll be a bump tomorrow. His bum is soaked jeans, and probably his pants too.

"Are you okay!?" John puts his hand on his head, looking where he hit it. "Well you're not bleeding..."

"I'm fine. No, I'm not," Sherlock continues to rub his head until the pain lessens, "but I soaked my bum, great." He mostly says to himself. He quickly saves his satchel, tossing it gently onto the rocks before any of his samples can sustain any real damage. He sits up fully and glares at the seaweed that tripped him. 

He starts sitting up on the rock and suddenly Sherlock remembers his manners, he frowns slightly but knows if Mycroft ever knew he'd be disappointed, "Thank you for your concern," he turns to the boy.

"You're welcome..." John looks down at the pool that the strange boy had fallen in and then at the boy himself. He figured he should probably get an adult to look at his bump, but he didn't seem the type to want to be looked after.

"My names John, John Watson. My family dragged me here for vacation. Whats your name?"

"I'm Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock wrings out the hem of his tee shirt, "my brother and I are here on vacation as well." His gaze narrows slightly as he looks back up to John, "You don't like it here very much, you're bored.." He deduces quietly, "Though you still think it's pretty, you don't have much to do." It wasn't the hardest to figure out, John was an easy read so far. John blushes and looks away. How did he know that?

"Yea.. at least it's something to look at nothing else to do around here. Seeing as I haven't got any friends.... I... um..." John clears his throat and trails off, twisting the stick in his hands again.

Sherlock cocks his head to the side, interesting, John only looked mildly embarrassed, and he still wants to speak with him. This boy is interesting, different... Lonely like him.

"So... do..do you want to go exploring with me?" John blushes, glancing up at Sherlock. Sherlock made him nervous, he wasn't sure why...maybe it is because he hasn't had any friends for a long time?

Sherlock doesn't know what leads him to it, being polite for Mycroft's sake, his loneliness, or his curiosity; but Sherlock shrugs slightly, "I don't see why not, I could use help collecting samples anyway... Could you help with that if I explore with you?" He asks the other boy, gaze narrowed slightly.

John's ocean blue eyes brighten excitedly, he nods, "Yeah! It'll be fun, there are some great rock formations and pools down the way I came from." John holds his hand out for Sherlock to take, thinking nothing of it. "What kind of samples?"

Sherlock tilts his head slightly but takes the other boy's hand hesitantly and he helps Sherlock stand. He brushes the sand off his bum.

"Plant life, shells, maybe a few rock bits," He shrugs, "Things that are interesting and would be fun to examine and find out more about."

He looks around after shouldering his satchel's strap and picking up his sneakers, "You came from that direction, right?" He asks, nodding in the direction he assumes John came from. 

John is practically bursting with excitement now. He made a friend! This is the best day of his summer, "Yeah!" John exclaims. He grabs Sherlock's hand again and begins pulling the boy toward the direction he came, intent on showing him the rocks and pools he found before.

"We're going to have so much fun, Sherlock! Wait until you see all the neat things there, I found crayfish and starfish and..." John continues on as he pulls Sherlock along.

Certainly the start of something interesting, that is for sure.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **EDIT**  
> Niko here with chapter 3 edited! Enjoy

Sherlock's still wary of the other boy but lets himself get dragged across the beach. Maybe he could make a friend, finally and not be so lonely. The other pools were indeed interesting, they had much more life. Sherlock collected a few samples and even pulled out his magnifying glass to examine an interesting rock.

"John, look, this stone has mica in it." He says, "a real big piece too.." He rubs his thumb against the shiny smooth piece of stone.

"Pretty." John says in awe, petting his finger over the shiny rock. "How come you know so much Sherlock? You're really smart." John spies a pretty multi colored piece of sea glass on the sand and picks it up. He turns his big blue eyes over to look at his curly haired friend. He holds up the sea glass to Sherlock's face and smiles. "It matches your eyes."

Sherlock frowns slightly, "I don't know, I notice, and I like to read," Sherlock stands as John lifts the glass, he holds out a palm, "May I?" John drops the shard into his hand.

"Besides, I learned about rocks and minerals in school, don't you pay attention during lessons?" He asks as he lifts the glass to reflect light. He turns it in the light. "Suppose it's coloring is similar," he mumbles quietly, handing the shard back to John.

John flushes red and looks down fidgeting with the shard in his hands, "Well yeah, I mean I try to. But school is boring and..." John pauses biting his lip, thinking about the bullies at his old school. Ever since Harry came out of the closet he'd been a target for being the dykey lesbian's freaky younger brother. "Well, I don't get much time to study with all the problems at my school."

John tries to smile at Sherlock. He didn't want to lose Sherlock as a friend if he knew about Harry. He just wanted one friend who liked him for him. At least it will be a new school year and Harry will be in secondary school. So any new people won't even know of the relation. Maybe he can befriend one of those kids.

Sherlock examines John quietly with quick and narrowed eyes, "Your sibling is gay, and you were bullied for it in school." He shakes his head slightly, "You shouldn't listen to them, they're idiots. It'll be better after you move, I suppose," He adds before morning on to the next pool and waving John over. 

"Look at this coral, John!" He yells to the shorter boy. John stares at Sherlock in surprise. How did he know all that? His sister. The bullying. The move. How?

What more is that he didn't care... Sherlock didn't even blink and just moved on. He still wants to play with John, be his friend. John smiles brilliantly and chases after Sherlock, unshed tears of happiness in his ocean blue eyes.

"Wow! It's so pretty!" They continue looking at the pretty rocks and shells and life in the pools for at least another hour when someone John doesn't recognize shows up.

"Sherly, it's time for lunch, why don't you invite your friend?" The ginger haired teenager smiles. John can see a bit of similarity between the two. They must be brothers. John looks to Sherlock, wondering if he will actually invite him over.

Sherlock looks up at his brother with a slightly narrowed gaze, pursing his lips, "Don't call me Sherly!" He gives his brother a look, a slight blush dusting his cheeks, Mycroft chuckles at Sherlock's out burst and waits for Sherlock to ask John over. The taller child turns to John, "Would you like to come up for lunch?" He asks, standing and brushing sand off his bum, before shouldering the strap to his bag. 

"I'd love to!" John exclaims and gets up his feet, dusting himself off well.

"Great, we're having seafood chowder for lunch. I hope you like it, our butler Winston makes it home made."

"Thanks, I'll try anything. I'm John." The small nine-year-old greets.

"Mycroft, Sherlock's older brother." John smiles up at Mycroft before taking Sherlock's hand again when Mycroft leads the way back to the summer house. He liked having a friend he could be close to. The holding hands is just awesome. A friend he could touch and wouldn't get annoyed about it. Honestly, he needed it, it made him feel so much better.

At the back porch, Sherlock sits to untie his chucks, "You'll have to take off your shoes here, Winston hates sand in the house." Once they're inside, Sherlock tells his brother he's putting away his bag and he leads John to his room.

John pads to Sherlock's room, his feet bare, looking around the house in awe. Sherlock dumps out his bag and smiles at John, "thank you for helping me collect samples." He sorts out what he's found and takes care of what he's got going already, John smiles at Sherlock.

"You're welcome. It was fun. What do you want to do after lunch?" John leans on the bed as he watches his friend sort his samples.

"What about the rest of the summer? I'm here for the next two weeks. Will you be here long enough so we can play every day?"

"Make sure you two wash up " Mycroft calls from outside Sherlock's door and then heads to his own room to clean up.

Sherlock smiles at John, "I'm here for the next couple weeks as well, so yes, though in a week we're going to visit Mummy for the weekend." He cocks his head, "Okay, Mycroft!" He turns to John, "Private bath through that door," he points it out for John with a smile. "I like playing pirates, Mycroft won't play much, he's got lots of schoolwork, do you like pirates?" He asks as he moves over to the door and opens it. John and Sherlock move into the bathroom; John having to use the stool to reach the sink and turns the water on,

"Pirates!? That would be fun! We can search for buried treasure, wear pirate hats and eye patches! Argh!" John laughs and refocuses on scrubbing under his finger nails.

-

Mycroft is in his own bathroom, washing his hand with a proud smile on his face. He knew Sherlock could make a friend if He tried hard enough,

Unfortunately, it will only be for part of the summer, at least Sherlock will experience what it is like to have a real friend.

-

Sherlock chuckles and finishes off his hands before drying them on a towel. After both boys are done, Sherlock leads John into the dining room happily, grabbing his hand.

"Winston's chowder is really good, I don't usually eat much food, but Winston's the best cook!" John laughs, clutching Sherlock's hand back. They were definitely going to have tons of fun together.

"Sounds great!" John says as they enter the dining room where Mycroft had just sat down.

"Thanks for inviting me over for lunch." He says to the Holmes brothers, climbing into one of the nice wooden chairs.

"You're welcome John. It's nice to see Sherlock bring a friend over." John just smiles wider at Mycroft.

Sherlock sits next to John and rolls his eyes at Mycroft. Winston enters with a tray of four bowls and settles one in front of each boy, then sets one down for himself for after he cleans up.

"John, this is Winston, Winston this my friend John." Sherlock introduces them and the man smiles, happy to see Sherlock made a friend. Sherlock picks up his spoon and scopes a spoonful of chowder into his mouth. He smiles and tells Winston it's really yummy, as always. The butler just chuckles with a thank you before leaving to clean up.

John smiles happily after his first bite and cheerily compliments Winston's cooking. The four of them chat quietly, John mostly to Sherlock about what they will do after lunch. Once they have all eaten, John jumps down from the chair and waits for Sherlock. Winston clearing away their bowls.

"Come on Sherlock! Let's find some stuff to make pirate hats!"

After collecting some newspapers Mycroft said he was done with, Sherlock shows John how he usually folded them. 

They were looking for things to make their hats look more real when Sherlock pulls out the feathered plume his mum had given him to put in his pirate hats. Sherlock smiles as he looks to John.

"Here John, hold still a minute." He reaches up, though he's taller than John, and settles the plume in one of the folds of John's hat, "There! Look." He points to a mirror on the wall. 

"I have pirate swords in one of the closets too!"

John looks in the mirror and laughs, admiring the plume, "Thanks, Sherlock, but don't you want to wear it?" He asks as they move to collect the swords from the closet.

Mycroft secretly watches from the door, watching his baby brother generously share his favorite feathered plume with his new friend. Wow, he must really like John if he's sharing that with him.

Sherlock smiles, "Nuh-uh, it means I get to wear the eye patch!" He moves to a drawer in the small library's desk and pulls out the black eye patch before putting it on with a devious smile. 

He laughs as John hands him one of the swords, "I think Winston may have some paper towel tubes to use as spy glasses." He smiles, "We can go ask him!" He grabs John's hand and leads him into the kitchen, "After that, we can go search for treasure!!"

Winston smiles at the young boys and hands Sherlock one of the tubes and removes the last few sheets of paper towel from the other and hands it to John.

"Thank you, Winston!" John smiles up at the butler, laughing as he is patted on the head. 

"Stay out of trouble boys." Winston says gently, sending the boys off to have fun.

"Argh! Let's find us some buried treasure, Captain Sherlock!" John giggles as he is pulled by his hand out of the Summer House and back onto the beach. Sherlock laughs as he and John hop down the stone stairs to the beach, they run across the sand, Sherlock laughing and calling John his first mate.

As they make their way down the beach an older girl comes towards them with an angry look, "John! Where have you been! I've been looking for you everywhere!" She shouts. Sherlock stops dead and tilts his head at the girl, so this is John's older sister. John visible shrinks, his smile disappearing from his face and bows his head.

"S-sorry Harry, you were off with the girls and well I ran into Sherlock, we got to playing and I lost track of time." John keeps his face down cast, eyes filled with a bit a fear. He didn't like upsetting his sister as he had to live with her and she sometimes looked out for him.  
Harry's gaze narrows slightly, but takes in the sight of Sherlock and her brother, he'd made a friend, "Well," she sighs, "It's alright, I guess. You didn't get hurt, just tell me where you're going next time." She moves to ruffle John's hair teasingly, "Aren't you going to introduce me, Johnny?"

Sherlock narrows his gaze at Harry after watching John visibly grow smaller under her gaze. He deduces several things on the spot but keeps his lips pursed as he gives her a glare. I don't like her, he concludes.

John tries his best not to flinch when Harry ruffles his hair and nods as he readjusts his pirate hat that she'd nearly knocked off with the action. He hates that nickname, "Yeah, sorry. Sherlock, this is my big sister Harry. Harry, this is Sherlock, he's on vacation here with his brother."

Harry cocks an eyebrow when John only says brother but doesn't comment on it. She doesn't like that look on Sherlock's face, something about this kid bothers her.

"Nice to meet you, Sherlock. You're being nice to Johnny, right?"

Sherlock tilts his head, "Of course, John's my friend, why wouldn't I be nice?" He huffs slightly, crossing his arms. The wooden sword smacks his thigh hard but Sherlock ignores it.

He flicks up his eye patch, "It isn't nice to embarrass your younger brother, though." He points out quietly, raising a brow at the older girl, "That's what Winston tells my brother."

John smiles at Sherlock, happy that he'd been called his friend. He wants to hug him, but refrains.

"Sorry, Johnn- John." Harry apologizes after a moment, looking to the side. "Make sure you're home by eight," Harry tells John and turns on her heel, walking away to look for the pretty brunette name Lisa she'd been talking to.

"Thanks, Sherlock." John says quietly to his friend and finally gives in and throws his arms around Sherlock's shoulders.

"Let's go play some more!" Sherlock smiles and turns to John, flicking his eye patch back down. 

"Aye, John, let's go find that treasure!" He laughs before grabbing John's hand before they run off.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **EDIT**  
> Niko here with chapter 4 edit! Enjoy!

-

"Mycroft, could John spend the night? And we could have a bonfire and roast marshmallows like that one time?" Sherlock peers up at his brother with hopeful eyes, he was late to go meet John down by the pools but wanted to get Mycroft's answer beforehand so they could plan more.

Mycroft looks down at his little brother and immediately regrets it. He can never resist Sherlock's puppy dog eyes. Mycroft looks away, shaking his head and smiling.

"Why not, make sure it is okay with his family first, alright?" Mycroft ruffles Sherlock's curls, laughing when little arms wrap around him.

-

John kicks his bare feet in the cool water of the pool he is sitting at. Little fishes are nibbling at his toes, making him giggle.

John looks up and down the beach, wondering where Sherlock could be, he is ten minutes late. This past week with Sherlock had been the best week in his entire life. Never has he had a friend like Sherlock. Someone smart, funny and friendly.

The little blond boy smiles at his reflection in the water. Suddenly there is another imagine beside his and he turns around. "Sherlock!" He greets enthusiastically.

Sherlock smiles in greeting to his friend, "John! Do you like marshmallows?" He asks, stopping to sit beside John and slip off his chucks and roll up his jeans. He sticks his bare feet into the pool beside John's and kicks them lightly as the little fish tickle his feet. 

He looks to John expectantly, smile still painted on his lips. John grabs Sherlock's hand and squeezes it, he had sincerely missed his friend. It had worried him that he wasn't going to show for a moment there, "Yea, love them. Why?"

Sherlock smiles, "Do you want to spend the night at mine? Mycroft said it was alright, he said we could make a bonfire and roast marshmallows!" He explains excitedly.

"Yeah! We can tell ghost stories and read Goosebumps and make a pillow fort after!" John cheers and clings to Sherlock. "This will be awesome! Come on, let's go collect more specimens for your research and then we can go tell Harry I'm staying over tonight." John takes his friend's hand and pulls him to his feet, pouting a the very slight difference in height.

Sherlock smiles brightly and picks up his shoes. He leads John off throughout the pools, "Okay! High tide finished a few hours ago, so there should be some interesting samples." 

After a while Sherlock kneels at one pool's edge and dips his hand into the water, pulling it out he smiles broadly. "Look, John, it an octopus!" He stands and shows his friend the tiny creature as it moves across his hand. He giggles as it's little legs tickle his palm. John reached out a hand to touch the small creature, one of the tentacles clings onto his finger. He gives a giggle at the strange feeling.

"It's so squishy... and clingy." He says, trying to pull his hand back, but the octopus just clings onto his hand more.

"Uh oh." Still smiling, tries to pull back, but fails. "I guess it's my octopus now."

Sherlock laughs as the tiny octopus clings to his friend's hand, and moves off his fingers. "We should probably put it back, it looks like a baby." He smiles as he kneels by the pool once more. He reaches into the water to pick out a piece of coral.

John nods in agreement to his friend and puts the little creature back in the water. He watches as the little creature settles back into the water, starting at it for a few minutes before returning to Sherlock's side.

"Doesn't coral die if you touch it with your bare hands? " he asks, watching Sherlock pick up the coral.

"Yes, but the pieces of coral in these pools have been broken off from larger organisms out at sea. This is dead." Sherlock replies softly, examining the light purple coral, "I like this piece's color."

"That's cool!" John says, looking at the coral with Sherlock. "What do you need all these specimens for anyway Sherlock?"

Sherlock frowns slightly, he didn't want John to think he was weird, and not like him, but he also didn't want to lie to his only friend, "I like to perform experiments and examine things," he mutters softly, "I like gaining new knowledge and finding things out for myself." He stands with a slight sniff, a bit afraid John would write him off for a know-it-all weirdo and leave him.

John looks up at Sherlock in awe, simply impressed by the boy two years younger than him and yet 100 times smarter than him. At that thought, John looks down sheepishly. "You must think I'm really simple minded if that's what you like to do...." He feels stupid for saying that, but if they are being honest, he doesn't want to lie now.

Sherlock shakes his head, with a look of surprise, "No! Not at all, I find you smarter than most the other children I've ever had the displeasure of becoming acquainted with. Most of all, you're different, John, you treat me like an actual person and not some know-it-all weirdo or freak. No one's ever been my friend before, no one's ever really enjoyed my company either, other than Mycroft, Winston, and Mrs. Hudson our housekeeper." He explains softly, looking down at John before holding out a hand for John to take. 

John blushes at all the compliments Sherlock is dishing out, making him smile sheepishly and his ocean blue eyes shine with appreciation. When that hand is offered to him, John reaches out and takes it, gripping it tightly, "Thank you, Sherlock. You're the best friend I've ever had."

Sherlock smiles broadly and pulls John to his feet, "I don't have a lot of friends, John, only you." 

"Do you want to go ask your sister if you can stay over?" With a sigh, John nods and begins heading to the place he is staying with his family.

"Might as well get it over with, yeah?" John grips Sherlock's hand firmly, needing some support. He never got along with his sister and he didn't exactly want to ask her to stay at Sherlock's house, she is so intimidating at times.

Sherlock nods and follows John happily. He could tell John didn't get along well with his sister, and he didn't want John to feel uncomfortable, "Do you know constellations, John? Mycroft knows allot of the stories about them, and their origins, last Christmas he got me a book about them. We can look up the stars maybe?" Sherlock suggests, trying to get John at ease.

"I love stars!" John says excitedly and then blushes, realizing how girly that must have sounded. His sister always teased him for being a bit girly. "I-I really like Mars 'cause it's red and Saturn because of its rings. I know they're not stars but I like space. I might become an astronaut... or a doctor like my mum." John trails off, he didn't want to keep changing the subject. He knew the whole point of Sherlock changing the subject was to make him feel better but then John just had to go screw it up again.

'It's like Harry says, I screw up everything... that's why I don't have friends... Not long before Sherlock changes his mind.'

Sherlock gives John a small smile, "I bet you'd make a great doctor or an astronaut, John." Sherlock shrugs, the subject changing didn't bother him at all, he changed subjects all the time because he was always jumping from one idea to the next in his head. "Is this where you're staying?" He asks, stopping and looking to John. Sherlock notices that John looks a bit down, he doesn't really know why, did he do something wrong? Did he somehow upset John? Sherlock sighs.

John nods his head after a moment and gives a silent sigh.

"Yes this is where we're staying." He looks at the three star hotel that is just half a mile down the beach. "I share a room with my sister. My parents have their own." 'Not that they are ever here...'

"Come on..." John takes Sherlock's hand, feeling nervous. He doesn't know why he is nervous, his sister, of course, will say yes, because she'll have the room to herself. Thankfully he had Sherlock at his side. Sherlock happily follows John onto the hotel's back patio, where Harry's talking with another girl. Sherlock looks to John and squeezes his hand encouragingly, he didn't really know why John was nervous, he didn't have enough data.

Harry jumps when she sees her brother and whispers to the girl she'd be right back, winking. "What?" she asks once she's at the edge of the patio, looking at the two boys. 'Johnny is going to be gay, definitely.' She thinks.

"Um..." John looks to Sherlock and his hand is squeezed in reassurance. "Sherlock invited me to stay over, he's just down the way..."

"Oh? Slumber party? I thought that was for girls? " Harry teases, though she loved the idea of having the room to herself... Stacy is very cute and very interested in her. John blushes and looks down.

"Boys can have sleep overs too!" He says, looking up through his bangs, squeezing Sherlock's hand tighter.

Sherlock shoots Harry a look, "It isn't nice to tease one's younger brother, Harriet." He glares, but winces at John's tightening grip on his hand, "Besides, Sleep overs have never been gender specific things."

Harry feels her lips tighten and she tries to not sneer at Sherlock. She didn't like that kid. Annoying. She turns to John again, trying to reign in her temper and failing.

"Whatever. Go wank off with your bloody boyfriend. Don't bother calling!" She turns on her heel, her short blonde hair swishing with the movement as she storms back, grabbing the girl on the bench by the hand and yanks her into the hotel room.

John winced when Harry raised her voice and turns pulling Sherlock with him. He walks a bit faster than he normally would, tears spilling over. He hated how much Harry could always affect him, she was always mean if she wanted. Why did she have to be that way?

Sherlock follows John swiftly down the beach for awhile, keeping up easily with the shorter boy before pulling John to a stop, "John, d-don't cry, please." He turns the older boy towards him.

Sherlock's unused to comforting people, sometimes he could do so with his brother, since they're so alike, but he's uncertain with John. "I-I know your sister upset you, I'm sorry I made her angry, it's my fault, I apologize. Please, don't cry, John." The seven-year-old holds his friend's shoulders firmly, craning his neck so he can look him in the eyes. Sherlock searches his friend's eyes questioning, "I'm sorry, please stop crying." 

John shakes his head, rubbing his hands into his eyes to try and plug up his tear ducts, knowing it won't happen, but does anyway. 

"It's not your fault. Harry-Harry's just mean!" John lets his hands fall, revealing his reddened eyes, a couple final tears still slipping out, "Thanks, Sherlock." He says sincerely, sniffling.

Sherlock nods, "It's okay, older siblings can do that sometimes." He tries to explain before searching through his satchel and pulling out a hanky, handing it to John, "You're my best friend John, I'm supposed to make you feel better, right, that's what friends do?" He asks softly. John sniffles again and takes the hanky, wiping his nose with it. He looks to Sherlock when he calls him his best friend.

"Best friend?" He is shocked. No one had ever called him that. "Yeah. That's what they do I suppose." He gives a choked laugh and hugs Sherlock. "You're my best friend too Sherlock!"

The breath whooshes from Sherlock as John grips him tightly. Sherlock looks down at John, surprised and shocked. No one ever hugged him, except Mummy and sometimes Mycroft. After a few seconds, Sherlock settles his arms around John in return. He laughs softly, "I'm your best friend?" He smiles, "Thank you, John!"

"You're welcome Sherlock!" John giggles, his tears gone thanks to Sherlock. "Come on! I want to go exploring by the pier!" John doesn't let go of Sherlock's hand and now it's just a sense of comfort for him. He might never let go of Sherlock again.

\----

"Come on, My! We're waiting for you! Winston said we can't start it unless you're here!" Sherlock tugs on his brother's arm dragging him off the patio and towards the fire ring, which John's sitting by. He plops down next to John before turning to him, "I got him, now we can start the fire!"

Mycroft does nothing to hide the smile on his face. He absolutely loved when Sherlock would be so excited like this. Like a regular child, "I'm here Winston, you can start the fire now." Mycroft says as he settles between Sherlock and Winston.The butler nods and adds a bit of lighting fluid to the pile of wood and strikes a match, tossing it into the pit.

With a woosh! The flames engulf the wood, burning it slowly, "Alright, what first boys?" Winston asks. "We have a quite a selection here. We could also tell ghost stories. I know a few good ones." Winston says proudly.

John sits close to Sherlock, he doesn't care what they do first. He's happy with just being a part of this.

"I vote marshmallows." Mycroft says lightly. He loved his sweets.

Sherlock chuckles, "Okay, then can we do the driftwood? I want John to see that!" He smiles and turns to his friend, "Do you know what happens when you burn driftwood, John?" He asks, taking a roasting stick that Winston hands each boy.

"Of course Sherlock. I already got some for that." Winston answers and pulls out the marshmallows, passing the bag around the circle. There is a pile of driftwood that he had collected by the stack of firewood.

John fiddles with his roasting stick, looking to Sherlock, "No.... I've never had a bonfire before so no. What happens?" John asks earnestly, he definitely wanted to know. He loved hearing things from Sherlock.

"Okay, I'm going to show you, hold my stick," Sherlock grins and hands John his stick before going to the pile of firewood and picking out a nice piece of driftwood. "Okay, watch." He carefully places the wood on top of the fire and watches the flames expectantly. Sherlock grins as the flames around the wood start to turn blue, green, and a few other colors.

"Ooo!" John claps his hands twice at the pretty colors the driftwood is making as it burns. He clutches his and Sherlock's sticks tightly, careful to not drop them. "That's awesome Sherlock! What other types of wood do that?" He asks curious as ever, a huge smile on his face.

Winston and Mycroft share a look, smiling to each other. This is the first time Sherlock has ever had a friend and neither of them could be more proud of him. Mycroft was beginning to worry that he would never try and befriend someone and now that he has... well it has been a blessing. Sherlock is noticeably happier. They just dread when they have to go back to school.

"Only wood that has absorbed salt, so driftwood mostly, though some woods smell nice when you burn them." Explains Sherlock with a grin. He takes back his stick, poking a marshmallow on the end and sticking it over the flames. "You want to try putting one on?" He asks, pointing to the stack of wood. He likes his new friend, Sherlock really did, John was fun and not boring. John didn't think he was a freak either.  
"Sure!" John sticks his stick into the sand so it hovers over the fire, cooking the marshmallow and gets a piece of driftwood. He breaks off a few pieces and tosses them around the fire, watching as only certain parts of the flame changes color.

"So cool!" John laughs and adds the rest of the drift wood. "This is awesome!" After he stares at the fire for a bit longer, John takes his place beside Sherlock again and grabs his stick. "I love toasted marshmallows." He takes a bite, wincing at how hot it is, but loves the taste. "Mmmh..."

Sherlock smiles at John, he nibbles on his marshmallow. He chuckles as he watches Mycroft devour his third sweet, "Don't eat too much, brother." He teases lightly giving his brother a smile. 

Mycroft sticks his tongue out at Sherlock and stuffs a fresh marshmallow into his mouth. John giggles and licks the sticky substance from his fingers.

"Okay." Winston clasps his hands, scooting close to the fire so that his face is shadowed. "Ghost stories... I'll begin. A long long time ago..." John listens intently, leaning into Sherlock just in case story got scary. Even Mycroft listens with a small smile on his face.

\----

Sherlock trots back into his room after brushing his teeth and sits on the edge of his bed, kicking his feet a bit, waiting for John to come out too.

With minty fresh breath, John goes to Sherlock's room and sees him on the bed. He smiles at Sherlock, playing with the hem of his shirt, his sonic screwdriver torch in the other hand. He has never had a sleep over before. Especially at someone else's house.

"Um... I'm ready I guess." Was supposed to share the bed with Sherlock?

Sherlock nods and scoots off the bed, "Okay, now help me set this up," he drags his desk chair over across from one of his bed's posts before dragging a stool over to the other post.

"Come on John, grab my duvet will you? I've got other blankets and pillows too." He explains, going to his closet to pull out some other duvets and afghans.

John does as he is told and gets the duvet. Together they make a blanket fort John not letting his torch leave his hand.

"I've never made a blanket fort before." John admits to the younger boy as they admire their work.

Sherlock smiles, shoving his softest blankets into the fort, "Mycroft and I do, when there's storms out or I can't sleep." He goes over to retrieve his bumblebee plushie, shoving it behind his back as he throws some pillows at John, "Let's go inside, you've got a torch, right?"

"Yes I've got it." John holds up the torch, clicking it on and then off, "I'm jealous... of the relationship, you have with your brother."

"It's not always hugs and kisses, John, most of the year I hate Mycroft's guts, and I make life miserable for him." Sherlock shrugs. He narrows his eyes slightly at John's torch, "Is that a sonic screwdriver?" He asks, a slight quirk to his lips.

John nods and fiddles with the object. He wished he had Sherlock's brother. So what if it wasn't always good? His relationship with Harry was never good.

"Oh this? yeah. Birthday present from my mum this year." He looks back at Sherlock and realizes he has something behind his back. "Whats that you've got there?" He tries to sneak peek, but Sherlock shields his view.

"Nothing. Doctor Who, then? Who's your favorite Doctor?" Sherlock moves to the entrance of their fort, making a 'shall we?' motion towards it. John crawls into the blanket fort and flicks on his torch so that he can see. He pulls a couple pillows close so that he can nest in between them.

"I like the eleventh doctor, his bow tie is awesome."

Sherlock shrugs, "I prefer the older Doctors, like Four, but eleven is pretty cool." He grins as he follows John, shoving his bumblebee, Bilbo, under some blankets. 

Sherlock makes his own nest of pillows and blankets next to John, "You had fun, right?" He asks John, hopeful. 

John watches as Sherlock shoves something under his blankets but says nothing and responds to his question, "I had lots of fun." John shifts and wraps a blanket around him. "Did you?" He hoped so. Hopefully, Sherlock wasn't just trying to entertain him, that would be boring and make him feel like a nuisance.

"Of course, loads, I haven't had so much fun in a long time." Sherlock smiles, curing up and pulling up a blanket around himself. "I'm happy we're friends, John." He grins, but unfortunately, Sherlock can't avoid sleep forever and his eyelids grow slightly heavy.

A pink blush dusts John's cheeks as he smiles cheerfully. He has to stifle a yawn as it interrupts him, "Me-" he yawns,"too Sherlock. Heh... I guess we'd better go to sleep." He suggests, his eyes half lidded now and he snuggles into his blankets and laying back so that he may sleep.

Sherlock makes a sound in agreement before digging around for his bee and curling up once more, eyes flitting closed as he clutches the plushie close, "Night, John." He yawns softly before snuggling deeper and drifting off.

John looks over at Sherlock once he had settled in and smiles. His bee plushie is quite adorable and very fitting; why didn't Sherlock want him to see it? Oh well, no sense in dwelling on it... John closes his eyes and wills himself to sleep, only for his nightmares to find him.

John wakes up not too long after falling asleep, his nightmare about some monster or bullies whatever metaphor the dream made for him had tried to get him. Tears streak down his cheek and he pulls his torch out, flicking it on to make himself feel safer. He tries his best not to whimper and wake Sherlock. He didn't want Sherlock to think him to be a cry-baby.

Sherlock's a light sleeper, so when he hears a soft whimpering, his eyes flicker open. The fort's lit by the hazy blue light of John's torch. Sherlock sits up, rubbing his eyes, "John?" He spots his friend's tears, "What's wrong?" He scoots closer to his friend.

John trembles slightly, still gripping his torch, "N-nightmare..." He responds in a quiet voice.

Sherlock cocks his head, staring at John a bit before moving to wrap John in an awkward hug, "John, it's just a dream." He assures John.

At first John feels awkward about the hug. When ever he had a bad dream, his parents would pat him on the head and just tell him to go to sleep. Harry would whine about him being a big baby. But Sherlock did not do that. John clings back to Sherlock and nuzzles his face into his neck. He feels safe, his nightmare fading.

"You really are the best friend anyone could ask for."

Sherlock gives a sleepy chuckle, "Good, let's go back to sleep, m'kay?" He pulls his little nest of pillows and blankets closer to John's before curling up with his bee, a hand on John's arm as they doze off.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **EDIT**  
> Niko coming at you with chapter 5 edit! Enjoy!

Sherlock groans as his brother straightens his bow tie then tries to pat down his wild curls, "Mycroft, stop fussing over me! I'm not a baby!"

Mycroft just smiles and tries one last time, fruitlessly, "Don't you want to look your best for mummy?" 

-

John sighs as he walks up and down the beach, bored out of his skull. He knew Sherlock would be gone all weekend, but he didn't have to like it. He's stuck wandering the beach all alone for the next two days. Uhg.

-

Sherlock rolls his eyes, "Mummy doesn't care, she just cares that we visit her." He sighs as his brother grabs his hand and pulls him towards the limo, he really just wants to be with John down at the beach. 

\---- 

The brothers arrive at their aunt's mansion a few hours later and are ushered inside for tea. 

Sherlock stands with a neutral but slightly annoyed face as his aunt kisses his cheek. After she moves on to Mycroft, he wipes off her horrid red lipstick that's now smudged on his face off with the inside of his jacket's sleeve. 

Mycroft just smiles at their aunt, "Hello auntie, how are you? Is mummy feeling any better?"

"Nice to see you both, and I am well... your mother is in a bit of mood today, but she should perk up once she sees her favorite sons!" She goes about and places a hand on each of the brothers' shoulders, guiding them to the sitting room where they would be having tea soon. Their mother is sitting in the middle of the couch, dressed plainly in a blue summer dress, her hair in a braid and minimal makeup that her sister had done for her.

Sherlock rolls his eyes at their aunt's annoying voice, "We're her only sons." He mumbles. But as always he smiles for his mother and moves to her side with purpose. 

"Good afternoon, mummy." He leans up and places a quick kiss on her cool cheek, "How are you?"

Mycroft mirrors his younger brother and sits on the other side of their mother, kissing her other cheek, "Hello mummy."

It takes a moment for her to respond, but she does and with a tiny smile, "My boys.... hello Sherly, Myky..." She squeezes Mycroft's hand when he takes hers in his. It helped a bit.

Sherlock gives her a small smile, "How have you been, mummy? Have you been feeling better?" He asks. 

Sherlock watches as their aunt comes in with the tea, "Milk and sugar, boys, Eileen?"

Sherlock frowns, "Sugar only." Their mother gives him a look, Sherlock corrects himself with a roll of his eyes, "Please."

Mrs. Holmes sighs, but still pats her youngest's curls affectionately in light approval, "Yes, Lillian, thank you, Mycroft?"

"Two please," Mycroft answers and smiles as his tea is served, taking it when finished. "Thank you." Mycroft watches his baby brother and his mother chat lightly, knowing Sherlock needs this.

"Mummy is doing a bit better, taking it day by day." Mrs. Holmes takes her tea and sips it lightly, the taste not even registering. "I am far more interested in what you boys have been up to." She looks between them with interested, even though she looks completely exhausted.

"Sherly has found him self a best friend." Mycroft says first, knowing that Sherlock might be too shy to say it himself.

"Oh?" Mrs. Holmes looks to Sherlock. "Tell mummy all about him."

Sherlock looks down at his lap, a light blush dusting his cheeks, "His name's John. He likes playing pirates with me, and he likes helping me collect samples." A small smile graces his lips as he says this, "And he's a great friend." 

Sherlock takes up his tea and sips it to perturb any further attempts at getting him to talk. 

"He sounds lovely," Mrs. Holmes smiles and looks to Mycroft. "What do you think of John, Myky?"

Mycroft gives a smile over his cup of tea, "He is very friendly, he somehow listens to Sherly's ramblings and lingers on every word. It's precious." 'Now that I think about it, they'll probably end up dating... if my deductive powers haven't gotten rusty.' Mycroft finishes to himself.

"Wonderful." Mrs. Holmes seems to have brightened up quite a bit now. She had been seriously worried about Sherlock, he hadn't been making friends and was showing serious signs of becoming extremely antisocial.

Sherlock frowns slightly as he looks at his brother, "John is not precious, Mycroft." he narrows his eyes slightly before going back to his tea. 

Mrs. Holmes looks to her son with a slight smile, "So how was school, did you two do well?"

Sherlock nods, "Yes mummy I passed all my lessons and subjects." 

Mycroft rolls his eyes and continues sipping his tea. He wonders why Sherlock did not tell mummy that he is being considered to skip a few grades.

"I passed as well mummy, fly colors and all that."

"Excellent, I have such smart boys... will you be staying for supper?"

Sherlock looks up to their mother, "We're spending the weekend, you asked us to after school ended." He looks to his older brother with panicked eyes, why didn't mummy remember?

Mrs. Holmes' teacup freezes midway to her mouth, her eyes unfocused, before she settles the cup back down with trembling hands, "I'm sorry dear, it must've slipped my mind." She gives them a smile before clasping her hands in her lap.

Mycroft gives a tiny shake of the head. He suspected about their mother but... he really didn't want to concern Sherlock just yet. Not until he was certain. However, he is suspicious that their mother has begun to deteriorate because of her severe depression about their father's death.

Try as she might, she cannot hold it together.

Their aunt swept in soon after, coming in to meet a slightly awkward silence.

Soon she shooed the boys off to make their shared room, claiming their mother needed her nap.

Sherlock plops down on a small bed, throwing his bag down beside him. His arms crossed and sporting his Sherlockian pout, he set his gaze on his brother.

"What's wrong with Mummy, My?" He asks. 

Mycroft's lips form a thin line, making the fourteen-year-old look far older than he is.

"I don't know Sherly, but it isn't good." He answers as he sits beside Sherlock, placing an arm around him. "We might have to watch her closely and be more patient with her. I know you're not very patient, but can you for mummy?"

Sherlock looks up to his brother before nodding vigorously, "Yes, for mummy." He assures him. Sherlock leans into his brother for comfort that he rarely seeks. Typically only when he's in a bad way.

Mycroft drops a kiss on top of Sherlock's curls.

"Good... let's um..." Mycroft pauses at a loss for once. "Why don't you do a little of your summer reading? Just so you don't fall behind on that. Maybe John has done the reading you are doing now."

Sherlock nods, "Maybe," he gives his brother a small smile and gets up, digging through his pack for his book. After finding it he curls up on his bed around the book, before plunging into the text to forget his own problems as he works out the story's plot within the first chapter.

Mycroft smiles sadly at his brother. It is so sad to see him, just like himself... lacking the innocence that he so deserved. With that on his consciousness, he brings out his text and studies as well until they are called for supper by their aunt.

After a rather quiet and awkward dinner, Sherlock sits comfortably in his mother's lap, his book in his lap, by the window that gives a nice view of the sunset. Which she stares out at quietly. 

"Mummy, can I read to you?" He asks softly. Mrs. Holmes smiles softly at the glass. 

"Of course, my love, please do." Sherlock smiles a small smile and opens the book settling it before he starts to read to his mother like she used to him when he was younger and her of better health.

Mummy listens to her son as he efficiently reads to her, carefully reading new words that he does not know, but figures them out quickly. She is so proud of her boys, both of them are brilliant just like their father.

She looks out the window as he continues reading, zoning out into her own world, everything fading as she falls into the darkness of her depression. There are many things that ail her, but she would never be able to tell her children. If they were to ever find out, she would not know what to do. What to tell them.

Sherlock quickly noticed that his mother wasn't listening, he looked up at his mum with a small frown on his young face. He snapped the book shut, his frown deepened when the loud sound elicited no reaction from her. He turned to frown at Mycroft from across the room, where he sat reading the paper. He huffed slightly, staring up at his mother still. 

Mycroft had noticed the change in the atmosphere as Sherlock and mummy had been reading, but Sherlock stopped and snapped his book shut. Their aunt hadn't told him anything and he wouldn't force it out of her. It just hurts to see Sherlock so confused and upset.

Mrs. Holmes continues looking out the window for several minutes, unaware of what is going on around her. Eventually, their aunt comes in and tells her it's time for a laydown.

"Oh," Mrs.Holmes snaps out it, tilting her head to smile at Sherlock, "Are you done, dear?" Sherlock huffs internally and slips off his mother's lap.

"Yes, Mummy." He holds the book loosely at his side as his mother frowns slightly but still stands and drops a kiss to his head, him returning it with a kiss on her cheek. She moves to kiss Mycroft's cheek and smiles as he returns it, then leaves to follow their aunt. 

Mycroft watches at their aunt and mother disappear and he gets up to sweep Sherlock into his arms and holds him tightly. 

"What do you say to go looking through the garden for any interesting insects?"

Sherlock buries his face into his older brother's shirt, he sighs as he pulls back slightly, brows furrow slightly but a small smile quirks his lips.

"Can we? I'd like that, thank you My," he took his brother's hand. 

"Let's go Sherly." He grasps Sherlock's hand tightly and walks out of the room with him so they can gather Sherlock's things for collecting his little things. 

Hopefully this will distract Sherlock well enough.

\---

The next day after a light breakfast and awkward tea, the Holmes boys are preparing to leave. "Bye, Mummy," Sherlock leans up on his tip toes to kiss his mother's cheek, the straps to his pack gripped tightly in his little hands. He didn't really know how to feel about Mycroft's making them leave a day early, but he'd said it'd be better for mummy and that their aunt agreed, so he just shrugged and decided at least he'd see John sooner.

Mrs. Holmes kisses her youngest's forehead and then her oldest's cheek, "Good bye dears, busy again." She smiles softly and ruffles Sherlock's curls, the seven-year-old pouting and patting his hair back down. 

"Good bye mummy." Mycroft kisses her cheek and accepts one from her as well. Afterward, he takes Sherlock's hand and leads him out the door to where Winston is waiting by the limo for them.

"We'll see her again," he reassures his baby brother.

Sherlock pouts slightly, "It's okay, as long as she feels better." He hands Winston his pack with a small smile and climbs into the limo before his brother, "But at least I'll get to see John soon."

"Do you like John?" Mycroft asks carefully, enjoying how sincerely excited Sherlock is about seeing John again.

Sherlock raises a brow at his brother, "Of course I do, John's my best friend." He smiles a small smile before turning to stare out the window.

"Good, we'll invite him over once we're back so we can have supper."

Sherlock smiled brightly and practically bounced in his seat until he fell asleep against the window. Mycroft carries his baby brother inside the summer house, he is completely out cold. 

"Winston, can you fetch John for us? I'd think it'd be a nice surprise for Sherly when he wakes."

"Of course Mycroft." The older man smiles and opens the door for Mycroft and Sherlock, closes it and goes off to get John.

Mycroft carries his brother to his room and settles him into bed to wait for John. Sherlock curls up on his bed, gripping his stuffed bee as Mycroft handed it to him. He snores softly, murmuring sleepily occasionally.

John wraps his arms around Winston's legs when he is retrieved. He couldn't believe Sherlock returned so soon. 

The whole ride (of five minutes) he bounces excitedly and runs to the house when let out and rips through the halls excitedly. He opens Sherlock's door a bit more quietly and peers inside where he sees his friend sleeping. Quietly he climbs onto the bed and lays next to Sherlock and pokes him. He spots his bee and smiles, that must have been what he was hiding before.

"Sherlock...."

Sherlock groans and rolls over towards John. His eyes flutter open and he yawns softly, "Jawn?" He smiles a tad sleepily before, curling his fingers around Bilbo and clutching him closer to his little chest.

"Hi Sherlock." He creeps closer and places a hand on his. "How was your trip?" He asks smiling. He wanted to hug Sherlock, but he is sleepy and he didn't want to disturb him.

Sherlock smiles, "It was okay, I guess, we had to leave early, Mummy didn't feel well." He pouts slightly, rubbing his chin against Bilbo's fluff.

"I'm sorry she doesn't feel well... but I'm glad you're back." John admits and embraces Sherlock in a hug.

Sherlock smiles, "I'm glad too, I didn't want to go anyway." He murmurs into John's shoulder, hugging his friend back tightly.

"Good..." he murmurs, yawning and cuddling to his best friend.

"I hope we're friends forever."

Sherlock smiles brightly, "Me too,"


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sad parting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **EDIT**  
> Niko here! ENJOY Chapter 6 edit!

Sherlock pouts as he watches Winston pack up their bags in the boot of the limo. He didn't want to go, even if he needed to get ready for his new school since he was being accelerated into a higher year, he didn't want to leave John. John was his best friend, his ONLY friend. He didn't want to lose that. They played together every day that he was here, pirates hunting for treasure or scientists gathering specimens.

"John!" He stands when he sees his friend moving up the stairs towards the porch, he waves his hand frantically.  
"Sherlock! " John quickens his pace up the steps and stops in front of his best friend.

"Leaving now? " He is given a nod. "I leave tomorrow... I'm gonna miss you." He tackles Sherlock with a hug.

Sherlock hugs his friend tightly, "I'm going to miss you too!" He pulls back slightly, "I have something for you, John!" He takes something out of his pocket and drops it into John's hand, "To remember me, I read about stuff like it in a book Mycroft gave me," the small bronze anchor was on a leather strap so someone could tie it around their wrist, "There's a Jolly Roger carved onto it, so you can remember how we played pirates." The taller boy stared at his shoes as his cheeks flushed.

"Sherlock.... thank you. I love it." He slips it on his wrist, tying it with a little trouble.

"Thank you, Captain." He pulls out a piece of paper with his number on it. "Here. At least call me if you can." He can feel tears coming, but he tries to stop them, not wanting to do that in front of Sherlock

Sherlock nods and smiles softly, taking the paper, "Welcome, I'll try to call," he sniffles slightly, "You're the best first mate I've ever had, even better than Mycroft." He bites his lip, he can feel the burning prickling the back of his eyes, and he can see John's eyes swimming in tears as well.

"I'm gonna be so lonely!" John cries out, clutching to Sherlock again as the tears just flood down his cheeks. He can't stop it, "I don't wanna go! You either!"

Mycroft is standing by the car with Winston, looking sadly after the pair. This is painful for him, but they'll have to go soon if they want to have time to prepare and settle back in at home.

Sherlock nods silently and hugs John once more, silent tears streaking his cheeks. It'd been so long since he'd last cried for real. "I don't want to either," he sniffles slightly, "but John, we-we gotta stay strong, cuz... Cuz pirates don't cry!" He pulls back and clumsily wipes the tears from his friend's face, "O-okay?" He asks, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

"O-Okay Captain!" John sniffles and swallows hard, forcing his tears down and smiles a watery smile as Sherlock touches his face. He, in turn, wipes Sherlock's tears.

"Good bye."

"Come on Sherly!" Mycroft calls, unable to watch this any longer.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry, i pretty much forgot about this, but i'm currently having issues with retrieving the emails so :P sorry for the shortness
> 
> **EDIT**  
> Niko has chapter 7 tidied up and gift wrapped for you!

Sherlock sighs as his brother ushers him into his new headmistress' office, tugging on the new dress trousers Mycroft's bought him for school, ("You're in a higher grade now, Sherlock, you need to look mature.") And that was the end of his jeans (he still had a few pairs that Mycroft's deemed acceptable) and tee shirts, though he managed to keep his chucks, which he now wore, along with an untucked white button up.

The past two weeks had been horrible, though his texts and syllabuses held some interest. He missed John, playing pirates, exploring the beach, the sleepovers... He felt miserable, not even Bilbo could comfort him, much less his brother or their butler. He barely ate, not having much of an appetite, much to Winston's dismay, he slept very little, much to Mycroft's (he'd have to deal with the grumpy seven-year-old). He sulked in his room/lab almost every day.

The whole time the headmistress was jabbering on, Sherlock stared out the window, ignoring her completely. When she finishes, she promises Mycroft that the school will take good care of the younger Holmes, at which Sherlock snorts. Mycroft shots him a look as the headmistress rises to escort him to his classroom and Sherlock rises to follow, giving Mycroft a look as they pass. She leads him down halls quickly, Sherlock's eyes darting around taking note of everything, pack straps firmly held in his tiny hands. She stops in front of a classroom, opening the door and clearing her throat loudly, quieting the room of rowdy fifth graders. Sherlock peers around her with pursed lips, gaze narrow, he can't see the whole classroom, but all they kids he sees so far aren't that interesting.

John doodles on his note book, bored as ever. The the first day of school is always about introductions, rules and assigning reading to be done for the week. The last two weeks were a nightmare. His sister tormented him the entire time since Sherlock left. He admires the medallion on his wrist that Sherlock gave him. He missed his Captain.

The door opens and when their head mistress walks in, the class of loud 5th graders quiet and look respectful. John Just keeps his head down, too uninterested in anything. He looks forward to burying his head in his studies to forget his loneliness.

"This is Sherlock Holmes, I hope you all welcome him with open arms. Take a seat, Mr. Holmes."

John's head snaps up, seeing his curly haired friend weeping to an open desk on the other side of the class room, he stares, barely containing himself. He must keep it to himself, not make a scene. Smiling, John looks at his notebook and bits his lip. He could not wait until morning break when he could surprise Sherlock.

How did he not know he would be going to his school?

Sherlock pouts as he pulls a notebook out of his pack, then a paperback novel, and a pen. He settles everything on his desk as he stares at the teacher, immediately deeming him annoying and useless, opening the paperback on his lap, peering at it steadily. He already read the text for the subject the teacher was prattling about, he didn't need to listen. Lips pursed, he continues reading throughout the time allotted for the one subject and even when the teacher announces that it was time for a break, and reminded everyone who needed to use the loo or get a drink to sign out and wait their turn fairly.

This class already seems BORING, Sherlock sighs softly, none of the other children seemed interesting, they were all idiots, he could tell. So after an initial look over the room, (he wasn't paying much attention) he had turned to his book. The teacher was an idiot too, boring and his sad attempts to make the class fun and interesting were a tad pitiful.

The moment break is announced, John had to stay sitting for a moment, to collect himself. Finally, he gets up, dressed in his khakis and polo shirt, sneaking up behind his younger friend.

"Fancy seeing you here, Captain." John beams at his friend when he turns around to face him.

Sherlock's eyes widen as he hears the familiar voice and turns to see the familiar face of his friend, "John?" A smile breaks through his severe pout as he pushes out his chair to stand, paperback falling from his lap as he faces his friend.

"Sherlock!" Boldly, John wraps his arms around Sherlock, hugging him tightly.

Sherlock wraps his skinny arms around his friend, "John." He murmurs softly enough for no one else to hear. The few kids in the classroom stare but then look away, deeming the pair weird.

John hugs him a moment longer, pulling back to look him in the face. "I didn't know you were coming here. You're a few years younger than me." He cocks his head to the side. Happy, but confused.

Sherlock tilts his head as he speaks, "At the beginning of the summer my teachers were discussing accelerating me into a higher grade, my brother wasn't told if I was or not a few weeks before school actually started. When we found out Mycroft wanted me to go to a better school so he had my files transferred two weeks ago." His brows furrow slightly, "Neither of us knew you came here, but I'm glad you do."

"It's a miracle," John says convinced. The teacher calls morning break over, yelling for students to return to their seats. "We'll talk at lunch, Captain." John goes back to his seat, smiling.

Sherlock narrows his eyes at John saying the word "miracle" but nods and picks up his paperback, eyes on John as he moves to his seat, taking note of where it is. As the teacher starts up a new lesson, Sherlock huffs and starts to read once more, already finding the lesson boring. Several times his eyes dart to where John sits and rare soft smile graces his lips as he watches his friend before his gaze slips back to his book.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> general fluffiness between our boys

John ducks as a paper ball is thrown at him as he passes down the halls. Thankfully he doesn't have to walk this alone, Sherlock is by his side.  


"Everyday's like this," he sighs. "They always pick on me because I'm so small...." Sherlock catches another paper ball and frowns, it's true John's a tad shorter than most of the other kids, and he is a bit freakishly tall for being seven-years-old.  


"I'm sure they'll soon start with me, you're not alone anymore," he reaches out to squeeze John's shoulder, giving him his Sherlockian smirk.  


John smiles and nudges his shoulder into Sherlock's arm, "You're not either. We'll watch over each other." He promises, resisting the urge to take his hand. The other boys would pick on them even more.  


"So John, I'm sure if we asked Mycroft he'd say it was alright, so do you want to come over for dinner?" Sherlock asks softly, scuffing his chuck on the pavement, they were strolling about out on the playground, at recess. His cheeks flushed slightly not only at the chilly wind, London was much colder than the beach.  


"Yeah. That'd be great!" John smiles and holds out his hand to Sherlock, they were far enough away from the others that they wouldn't notice. He just needs to be close to his best and only friend.  


Sherlock takes John's hand and smiles, "You'll have to call you mum first though, right?" He asks, his fingers brush over the anchor medal and he grins wider. "You're still wearing the anchor."  


"I'll call when I get there, mummy errors late, so Harry will only be home." He looks down at their clasped hands where Sherlock plays with his medallion.  


"Of course, you gave it. To me. It reminds me of you and makes me feel close to you."  


The taller boy smiles, fingers running over the smooth surface of the medallion save the Jolly Roger carved into the front. He gives John a grin, squeezing his fingers, "You really are the best first mate ever." John blushes and smiles, looking down, at his feet.  


"Takes a good Captain." He looks up at Sherlock through the corner of his eyes. He doesn't know what say, two weeks felt like an eternity, where does he start?  


Sherlock smiles and nods, "What'd you do your last day at the beach?" He asks softly, tugging John's hand lightly, starting to walk a bit.  


"Collected shells, found a dead star fish. I have it at home if you want it." John squeezes Sherlock's hand reminding himself that Sherlock is really there, "How was the rest of you summer?"  


The taller boy smiles at his friend, "I'd like to see it, yeah." He sighs softly, looking down at his chucks, "Miserable, I missed you, Mycroft always scolded me for sulking around all the time."  


"No need to sulk. I'm here with you now." He squeezes his hand again, this time to remind Sherlock to he is real too. "Lets look for insects along the fence line."  


Sherlock chuckles and scrubs his thumb over John's knuckles, in an affectionate manner, "Mycroft will be happy to see you, and you'll like Mary, our cook, she's nice and makes yummy biscuits."  


"Mhm," John chuckles, pulling Sherlock toward the fence, listening as he goes on about what they'll do when they go to his for dinner.  


Sherlock looks over the chain-link of fence, "We could play pirates too." He looks over at the other kids on the playground, "The rest of our class is rather dull, aren't they?"  


"Aye Captain." John laughs, seeing a daddy long legs resting on a patch of grass. He motions to it for Sherlock to see. "They are rude and closed minded. I hate them. So mean."  


Sherlock lets go of John's hand and nods as he crouches, "They're not worth your time," he murmurs, cupping his tiny hands around the spider with an intrigued smile curving his lips. He watched it crawl up his fingers, "Did you know daddy long legs could be quite dangerous if they were bigger?"  


"Yes, I learned that last year when reading a biology textbook. Scary things they are. If they were larger, I would probably have a fit or something." John giggles and watches the spider crawls over Sherlock's fingers frantically. "I think it's more scared of the big hand monster that's got a hold of it." meaning Sherlock.  


Sherlock pouts slightly before letting his hand drop slowly to the grass, allowing the spider to crawl away, "I don't want to scare it." He murmurs, standing, "Whenever I bring insects, spiders or any other creatures home, Mary throws a fit, she thinks they'll get into her kitchen." He scoffs softly, "So Mycroft makes me release them. Sometimes I think he's afraid I'd hurt them on accident... I really like the different creatures you can find outside," he explains, "I'd never hurt anything though, not on purpose,"  


"I believe you Sherlock... I couldn't imagine you to be that way at all..." John watches the spider disappear into the grass, hiding. "It'll feel better soon," John's hand finds Sherlock's again, needing that reminder again. When you are nine, everything feels like it is forever. "I wont ever hurt you on purpose either, and hopefully never on accident Sherlock."  


Sherlock smiles and rises to hug his friend, "I know, John, thank you."  


____  


"Mycroft!!" Sherlock bounds out of the primary school's doors, hopping down the steps to his waiting brother, tugging a content John behind him by the hand.  


"How was school Sherly?" He asks surprised, watching Sherlock bound cheerfully down the steps. He looks at the short blond boy being dragged willingly behind him and smiles, "I should have known." Mycroft looks down at his brother and his friend, "Hello John, good to see you."  


"Hey, Mycroft!" John beams at Mycroft, still clutching Sherlock's hand. Sherlock had been his lifeline the entire day; how he survived without him. He didn't know.  


"It wasn't as dull as it could've been. Mycroft, John's coming over for dinner." Sherlock informs his big brother before tugging on John's hand, going to lead him into the limo. The day actually hasn't gone as bad as he thought, and that was all because of John.  


"Lovely," Mycroft rolls his eyes as he follows the young boys into the limo and sits beside Sherlock, John on the other side. He is almost sad that Sherlock wouldn't be cuddling up to him like he normally would. Fortunately, John is there with him and hopefully, he will never leave him.  


"We'll be glad to have you, John."  
"Thanks, Mycroft!" John smiles again, setting his bag on the floor of the limo. "Whats for dinner?" Mycroft laughs, one track mind, just like Sherlock.  


Sherlock settles his backpack into his lap, with a smile, "I don't know, Mary cooks all sorts of things every day, though I think she said something about chicken." The taller boy shrugs, tapping his fingers on the seam of his bag. "I can't wait to show you my lab, John, it's bigger than the one in the summer house, and maybe we could go out into the yard and I can show you my tree." The younger boy smiles at his friend reaching over to take his hand.  


"I can't wait!" John laces their fingers, innocently unaware of its significance, smiling with Sherlock. Mycroft watches them silent, pretending to be preoccupied with his organizer. They were so wrapped up in each other that he wonders if they realize how much they are the one percent of friends to be so close. So... unconditionally friendly and loving.  


Sherlock practically beams, squeezing John's fingers. He peers out the window at the view, unconsciously softly rubbing his thumb into John's hand.  


When they arrive, Sherlock pretty much leaps from the limo, bag in hand, "Come on, John! You have to call your mum still." He whispers low enough so Mycroft won't hear.  


"Oh right!" Still, hand in hand, they run into the house, to grab the house phone before retreating to Sherlock's room.  


Mycroft smiles at Winston, getting out of the limo, "I wish I had a friend like that growing up." He mentions quietly... not sure why he said that. The butler nods with a small frown, squeezing the elder Holmes' shoulder gently before going to park the limo.  


Sherlock slams the door behind John, "Okay, here." He hands John the phone with a smile. He moves to his lab bench to examine his ongoing experiments, waiting for his friend.  


John dials his home number on the phone, and it rings, the answering machine picks up.  


"Hi mummy, it's John. I'm at my friend Sherlock's house for dinner... um... where do you live " He mouths at Sherlock. He repeats the address back over the phone. "You can call Winston at the house when you get home. Bye!" John hangs up and climbs onto the bench beside Sherlock, studying his experiments.  


"So what is going on here?"  


"This one is seeing how this basic mold effects these different kinds of breads. This one is seeing how different species of leaves rot. And this one is part of an experiment that sees how different amounts of sunlight affects mold growth, " Sherlock points to the different experiments as he explains, "But these aren't as interesting as the one Mycroft took away a few days ago, he said it was too dangerous." He pouts, writing down his observations in his experiment journal. He scoots over a bit to give John more room. He taps his pencil on the table.  


"Probably black mold or asbestos," John says, looking at the experiments in front of him. So fascinating, seeing Sherlock's obsessions, "What are you gonna do when they get too old to keep around? "  


"I'm almost done with them, if it's safe enough I throw them away, if not I ask for Mycroft's help getting rid of them," Sherlock shuts his journal and puts it down, "Do you want to go outside?" He asks softly, slipping from the bench.  


"Yeah," John pulls his eyes away from the experiments and to his rainbow eyed friend, "Tell me about this tree we can climb? "  


Sherlock nods eagerly and takes John's hand to lead him, though it's more like dragging, through the large house and through the back door with a bounce in every step. "Here we are! That," Sherlock pointed to a rather large and old looking oak, "is my thinking tree."  


"Wooow," John gasps as he looks up at the tree with sparkling eyes. He'd never seen such an amazing tree.  


"Can I?" Once a nod is given to him, John scurries over and tries to reach up and climb into the tree, he falls just short of reaching the lower branch.  


"Why am I so short! ?" He pouts over at Sherlock.  


Sherlock moves closer to his short friend, suppressing a giggle, "It's okay John, I'll climb up and then help you, okay?" He reaches up a grabs the lowest branch, nimbly pulling himself up. He crouches low on the sturdy branch, a hand on the trunk to steady himself. Sherlock reaches down a hand, palm out to John, who's still pouting a little, "Come on John, friends help each other, right?" He asks.  


John gives a small smile and leans up to clasp hands with Sherlock, getting the boost he needs to get in the tree. Once on the lower branch, he straddles it, and grins at Sherlock, "Thanks, captain." He looks up, "How high can we go? "  


Sherlock shrugs, "I don't know, I've gone almost to the top before, but Winston came out to stop me last time I tried, maybe a little over half way?" He starts to climb up the tree with a grace that a seven-year-old shouldn't possess, "This tree's really tall, it's a great view wherever."  


John stands up, a little unsure of himself so he grips tight to the base of the tree as he follows Sherlock. "Let's do it! " John smiles, following Sherlock's movements, so he doesn't mess up.  


After a bit of climbing Sherlock stops at a good branch and holds out a hand for John. "Here," He pulls his friend up next to him and swings his legs over the branch, settling against the trunk, watching John do the same.  


John gets his balance and grins, taking Sherlock's hand, feeling safer in the tree by doing so, "Oh wow!" John exclaims, looking out over the tree branches and getting a fantastic view of the Holmes mansion and parts of London.  


Sherlock nods, helping steady his friend "It's fantastic, a nice view to look at while I think." He smiles. His eyes sweep over the view with a fond curve to his smile. He squeezes John's hand, that he's still holding.  


"What do you think about?" John asks, staring out at the beautiful London view. He could get used heights if he could see views like this.  


"Oh," the taller boy tilts his head slightly, "Lots of stuff, science, my experiments, puzzles... You, cause I missed you a lot." The younger murmured.  


"I thought about you a lot... and especially today cause I saw you first and all I wanted to do was surprise you." John squeezes Sherlock's hand more. "I'm so glad we're together."  


The younger nods in agreement, smiling softly, "I'm glad too, John." Sherlock leans against John's shoulder lightly.  


John laces their fingers, shifting closer and lays his head on Sherlock's. The peace that they had made when they met at the beach returns and he is happy. No one can take that from him.  


Sherlock sighs softly and cuddles closer to his friend. Everything would be better now, he could feel it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about how this is being updated, but I'm shifting through emails and working on other pieces. Also senior year is a bitch, just stressful, next time i have a break or a snow day I'll be able to work on it more  
> **EDIT**  
> Here is Chapter 8 edited! Niko OUT!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small accident occurs when the boys go to John's to do some homework together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, guys... WE'RE BACK... kinda lol \\('.')/ with a bang my dudes
> 
> Niko here! I'm the other writer DUH XD, I'm also the primary editor. She's the drawer, I'm more the grammar nazi

"John!" Sherlock calls, waving his friend over, where he is sitting at a small lunch table, an untouched sandwich on front of him and a small novel open in his little hands.  


"Hey Captain," John gives his now normal greeting for his friend, sitting down beside him, brown bag in hand. Carton of milk in the other. "Watchya readin?" He asks, pulling out a thermos of soup, crackers and an apple. Simple lunch, but tasty.  


"White Fang," murmurs the taller boy, a smile on his lips, eyes already roving the page once more.  


"Hey, Freak, Pipsqueak.." A voice called, Sherlock's head snaps up once more to glare at the older boy who now sat before their usually empty table. Sherlock didn't particularly like being called Freak, what really ticks him off was when people call John out for his size.  


"Go away Anderson." John glares at his old time bully. Been in the same class since pre school.  


"But im here eating lunch," the boy says innocently.  


John shrinks a little in his seat, shifting closer to Sherlock unconsciously. He always felt safer with him close.  


Sherlock looks to his friend, lips pursed. Then he calmly closes his book and settles it on the table, "Anderson, did you know your mum's having an affair? Yes, with the librarian, Mr. Burns, judging by the smell of his cologne on her whenever she picks you up." He flashes the bully a smug smile before going back to his book.  


"T- that's a lie! Take that back!" Anderson gets red in the face, angry at Sherlock.  


John smirks at what Sherlock had said and takes a bite of his apple. When Sherlock dosent respond, Anderson grabs the book out of Sherlock's hands and throws it accross the lunchroom before running away with tears brimming in his eyes.  


Sherlock mock pouts after Anderson, "That wasn't very nice," he turns to John, "now was it?" He give a smirk and stands to go get his book, "I rather like that book."  


John smiles, jealous of the way Sherlock keeps his cool. He is two years older than Sherlock and yet he looks up to him.  


"Maybe we should find somewhere else eat lunch, if it isn't raining I mean." John looks out side, typical for London it is currently raining. "Did you want to come over, it'll just be me and my sister and we're getting Chinese take away. We can work on our science project together."  


The younger boy shrugged slightly after he came back from grabbing his book, "If you'd like, John, I don't mind much." Sherlock tilted his head towards John as he sat next to him.  


"I'd like that," he gave a slight nod, smiling softly. "This project isn't actually that dull." He stated after a mischievous twinkle in his eye.  


John smiles and finishes up his lunch, Sherlock reading his book and eating two bites of his sandwich. They spend the rest of the day scribbling notes and avoiding Anderson and the girl who follows him around.  


John grabs their plant from the back room, it is just sprouting up from the soil, its growth charting stick right next to it. The people who they were supposed to be assigned to, complained and they were luckily paired together.  


"Hopefully Harry won't have any one over and will leave us alone."  


Sherlock nods thoughtfully, eyeing the sprouting plant in John's hands. He shoulders his pack, "We'll have to find Mycroft and tell him," he grabs for John's free hand, humming softly. As they exit the school building Sherlock spots his older brother, "Mycroft, I'm going to John's house tonight. We're going to work on our project."  


John keeps the plant in one hand, bag on his back and fingers laced with Sherlock's. He knows people are staring, they always stare, being innocent and slightly ignorant he does not understand why.  


Mycroft observes this as John and Sherlock approach the limousine; he considers approaching the issue that it could be unsafe for the boys to continue to be so affectionate in their friendship, but he really doesn't want to ruin it for them. They are just so happy together.  


"Alright, why don't we give you a lift then." Mycroft offers to the boys, looking to Winston who nods in agreement.  


John shakes his head grateful for the offer but it isn't worth it, "It's only a couple blocks, I walk home all the time."  


Mycroft isn't sure how he feels about that, letting them walk home.  


"It's okay, My, we'll stay safe," Sherlock assures his brother as John starts to lead him off. He waves after his brother and squeezes John's hand, humming softly.

"What kind of plant do you think it is John?" He asks softly, looking at the sprout in his friend's hand.

John looks at the plant, tilting his head to the side. The sprout is a deep green, lightening at the tips. It hasn't shown any sign of what it may be, other than a plant.

"I think it’s a flower, not like a vegetable or of anything. What about you?" John squeezes Sherlock's hand back, this is something they tend to do for unknown reasons.

\----

Mycroft stands beside Winston, watching his brother and John disappear down the pavement. He feels uncomfortable allowing his brother to do this, he has always been a target for bullies. 

"Do you think they will be alright Winston?"  


The butler watches the boys disappear from his sight and turns to the elder Holmes, "They'll be fine Mycroft, it's a safe neighborhood, and they're both smart boys. Don't worry." He pats the 14-year old's shoulder. "Let’s go, shall we?" He opens a door for Mycroft. Mycroft nods and sighs lightly.  


"You're right..." He climbs into the limo and sits staring out the window. After a moment, he pulls out his phone to distract himself.  


\----

Sherlock's eyes scan the plant, head tilting, "You're right, John... Maybe a daffodil..." He shrugs slightly, "I'm not very good with nonpoisonous plants." He gives his friend a small smile, squeezing John's hand.

"Daffodils are lovely. I really like yellow - and blue." John looks the plant over and then his gaze settles back on Sherlock.  


"We'll see I suppose, eventually we won't be able to bring it outside when the weather gets colder or it will die." As he says this they round a corner, his apartment building comes into view. It is a nice building, his apartment near the top floor, one of the bigger apartments.  


Sherlock follows the older boy, gripping his hand, "I like purple, but daffodils don't grow to be purple, but I like yellow too, like bees."  


The taller boy looks up at the gray sky, feeling the slight nip in the air on his nose, "Well, I don't want it to die.." He frowns slightly, "We can't let that happen, John."  


"We won't, there are some ways to protect it. I can get a canvas bag to cover it. Keep it warm for the short journey to and from school." John gives Sherlock a bold smile, looking to the building, they are approaching the stairs.  


"Here we are. We'll have to take the lift up to the eighth floor.. I really hope Harry isn't going to bug us." John mutters that last bit quieter.  


The taller boy nods, "Good.." He looks up at the building before looking back to John with a small smile.  


"It's okay, if she bothers us I can just deduce her. I can tell she doesn't like me much though, at least during the summer she didn't." He squeezes his friend's hand, letting him lead him up the stairs.  


"I love your deductions." John says honestly as they enter the building, he heads toward the lift across the lobby and presses the silver button to go up. "She just doesn't appreciate your genius."  


The younger boy smirks, giving a soft chuckle. He moves to John's side, "Barely anyone appreciates real genius these days." He looks to John a smile on his lips, "But you do, John. Thank you."  


"Of course!" John beams at Sherlock, the lift dings as it arrives at the floor.  


"You're the most brilliant person I know." He pulls Sherlock onto the lift and presses the button for his floor. He stands there smiling with a blush on his face as they wait.  


Sherlock chuckles softly, smiling at his friend, "Thank you, John." He smirks slightly at his friend's visible blush, John was silly. The lift dings at John's floor, and Sherlock follows John out and down the hall.  


John passes the plant to Sherlock so he can unlock his apartment door and is greeted by the site of his older sister drinking from a bottle her cheeks rosy and her posture unsteady as she stumbles through the foyer to the kitchen. John frowns, why does she keep doing this?  


"Harry, Sherlock is staying for dinner so we can study. We'll be in my room." He closes the door after Sherlock enters and tries to usher him down the hall.  


"What?" Harry slurs. the fourteen-year-old stumbling back into the foyer. "You brought your little boyfriend home! How cute! Don't do anything dirty." She teases, not sounding very friendly in the least, her words drowned in liquor.  


Sherlock's nose scrunches in distaste at Harry, hands held securely around the plant.  


"Harriet, I am seven years old, John is nine, we are too young to date, and we are certainly not going to do anything 'dirty'. You are clearly very intoxicated, you are speaking nonsense.. Please do not disturb us, John and I are going to his room." He takes John's hand, not finding it fit to say more.  


John giggles as he pulls Sherlock along. He loved it when Sherlock defended him, it just makes him swell with pride.  


Harry watches the boys stupidly, her drunken brain catching up slowly. Had that seven-year-old just insulted her? She is pretty sure he did. When she goes to retort they had already left the room. She fumes angrily but chooses to take another swig of the liquor in her hand and stumbles to the kitchen. It is a matter of time before she begins throwing up, drinking on an empty stomach.  


John closes his bedroom door decorated with lots of different things. Doctor stuff, military stuff. Doctor Who all over the walls. His seashell and rock collection along the windowsill. His bed is completely Doctor Who. He places their project on his desk and turns to Sherlock.  


"Thank you," he says earnestly.  


"It's not a problem John, you're my best friend, it's my job to defend you." Sherlock's nose scrunches for a moment before he moves and wraps his arms around John.  


As he pulls away he blushes slightly, then looks around the room, taking it all in. A smile quirks his lips, "I like your room."  


John relishes in the hug, loving the positive affection and attention Sherlock gives him. He blushes at Sherlock's comment.  


"Yea, I really like the doctor, he's amazing you know." He picks up his sonic screwdriver and turns it on so it is a torch and then clicks it off again. "Remember when I brought this to our first sleep over?"  


Sherlock nods happily at the memory, a fond smile on his lips.  


"Yes, I do that as fun." He chuckles softly, he slings his pack off his bag and digs through it, "And ahh, well, remember how I wouldn't show you what I had?" He pulls out his plush bee, he sighs softly before looking to John, "This is Bilbo.." He was a tad worried that John would think him a baby for having a plushie.  


"I love bees... he's cute." John says petting the soft plush bee in Sherlock's hands, rememboring when he was hiding it from him at the beach house. "Wait... you like Lord of the Rings?" He asks, suddenly realizing the name, eyes widen excitedly.  


Sherlock nods tentatively, "And the Hobbit, always have.. I've read all the books." He gives John a smile, hugging Bilbo close.  


"Why, do you?" He asks quietly, glowing happily inside at John.  


"Only read a million times!" John rushes over to his bookcase, pointing out all the books on his shelf. He has all of the novels and they all appear to be worn and well loved.  


"I love Bilbo Baggins! I was him for Halloween last year."  


Sherlock chuckles softly, following his friend to the book case, a smile on his lips.  


"I was Smaug last year. Mycroft and Winston helped me sew it and everything." Sherlock smirked slightly, "I love dragons, they're the best. But hobbits are great too."  


"I bet you were a great Smaug!" John exclaims as he pulls out the Hobbit, thumbing through the worn pages with a happy face.  


"Mummy didn't think this was appropriate for my age when I started reading them, but I love reading, ever since I could. I love fantasy and everything. It’s so exciting!" He puts the book back gingerly and then turns to Sherlock, still smiling.  


"Come on, let’s do some work for our project."  


Sherlock nods, going to dig through his pack once more, "Mycroft encouraged me to read big books, he usually looks down on fantasy and fiction books, though he's okay with my detective novels, and classics. He gives me allot of book he reads in his English classes. I can share some if you'd like." He pulls his journal out and goes to join John at his desk.  


"I'd love to borrow some." John too pulls out his journal filled with daily notes about their project and stares at the sprouting plant and then scribbles down what he and Sherlock had discussed about it on the way to his home.  


"What should we name it? Teacher didn't tell us too, but I think our project needs a name."  


The taller boy smiles softly, "The Curious Case of the Mystery Plant." Offers Sherlock after a few moments of thinking, little fingers steepled and index fingers tapping his little Cupid's bow lips.  


Sherlock flips through his journal to a blank page, making notes silently before scribbling a little sketch of the sprout on the page.  


"Perfect!" John writes the title down and then leans over to look at Sherlock's drawing, jealous. When he’s done, he smiles.

"Let’s order our take away." He jumps down and opens his bedroom door so he can go and get the house phone.  


Sherlock nods, scribbling the title down in his journal in his messy scrawl. He jumps from his perch after John, "Wait for me John!"  


He stops dead in the hallway behind John when he spots Harry in the sitting room, still dead drunk.  


John stares at his sister and frowns. Their parents being military and in the medical field had told them the dangers of things like drugs and drinking and everything else under the sun.  


He looks to Sherlock and takes his hand, unsure of what to do. Harry could be really mean when she is like this.  


Sherlock's nose scrunches slightly as Harry stumbles close.  


"Oh, look, it's little Johnny and his little boy toy. You know Johnny," she starts, taking a sip from the bottle in her hand, "I'd never woulda thought you'd be a cradle robber!" She slurs.  


John frowns up at her, squeezing Sherlock's hand.  


"What are you talking about? Sherlock and I are friends! Best Friends!" John feels scared, his sister never gets this drunk. He looks to Sherlock for help.  


Sherlock frowns, gripping John's hand tighter.  


He drags John into what is obviously the kitchen, moving to shut the door after them, "John, we should get the bottle away from her, is there any more liquor in the flat?" He asks, "we can flush it after we get the bottle she has."  


John nods and goes to the liquor cabinet where a small stash of vodka is. He pulls one of the bottles out and hands it to Sherlock and then another for himself to empty into the sink.  


"Mum and Dad rarely drink anyway."  


Sherlock uncaps the liquor and grabs a stool for John. He leans as much as he can, pouring the alcohol into the sink. He moves away with a scrunched nose he didn't like the smell of liquor very much.  


"Now we got to get the one Harry's got...." Sherlock takes John's hand, "Are you going to tell your mum?"  


John nods, watching the liquor drain into the sink.  


"I have to... if they ever get home... usually it’s just me and Harry - mum has plenty of emergencies at work. Dad travels for work... Never home really. Not often at least when I need them." He sighs and puts his brave face on. They need to get that other bottle.  


Sherlock nods, "Okay, if you distract her I can grab it." He offers quietly, opening the door slightly to see Harry sitting at the table, the bottle gripped firmly in her hand, he shut the door.  


"You'll have to get her to put the bottle down, though."  


John swallows hard but nods and goes into the other room.  


"Harry?" He walks up to her at the table, she has a tight grip on the liquor bottle.  


"Harry, can you come here for a second?" Harry looks at him weird but goes to get up.  


"What do you want?"  


"I -I .. well I knocked over something and I need help picking it up." He grabs her arm and pulls her toward him. She actually let’s go of the bottle and stumbles after him.  


"Hey! Let go brat!" She yells as she is dragged into the hall.  


Sherlock peers out of the kitchen and watches as the pair gets farther away from the table and the bottle of liquor. He purses his lips and darts out of the kitchen, grabbing the bottle and skidding back past Harry, taking John's hand. He drags John into the bathroom he'd noticed before, turning to lock the door after slamming it closed. He can hear Harry swearing and cursing on the other side.  


He hands John the bottle, "Flush it!"  


John does as he is told and dumps the liquid down the toilet, flushing it.  


"JOHN YOU FUCKING BRAT OPEN THIS DOOR AND GIVE ME MY BOOZE!" Harry pounds on the door, yelling and screaming.  


John puts the empty bottle into the trash and clings to Sherlock, scared from the yelling.  


Sherlock frowns deeply, hugging John. He winces slightly at Harry's yelling, grip tightening on John. He doesn't know where to go, so he just sits on the tiled floor, dragging John with him.  


John clings to Sherlock, pressing his face into his chest, shaking slightly. Why the yelling, always with the yelling. She scares him so badly and she never remembers any of it.  


Harry continues pounding on the door screaming for several minutes, but after at least twenty minutes it goes quiet and staggering footsteps sound off as Harry stumbles away.  


John looks up at Sherlock five minutes later, hoping its safe.  


"She really scares me sometimes..." He admits to Sherlock.  


Sherlock hugs John tightly, "It's okay, I can see why."  


He nuzzles his nose into John's hair. After a bit, he pulls away, "I'll check and see if it's safe." He stands and quietly moves to open the door.  


He peers out, lips pursed, deeming it safe he boldly steps out. It's quiet... Eerily quiet, "Harriet?" He calls, getting no answer he moves out into the hall. He pads into the sitting room; seeing that the front door is wide open. Sherlock quickly moves back into the bathroom, "John, she's gone, she left.”  


John gets up and clings to Sherlock's arm, still shaking a bit, "Let's just order our take away and then ... hide in my room."

John sounds so sad and scared, he wishes this would stop. Mummy and Daddy are unfortunately no help.  


Sherlock wraps an arm around John, "John, you should at least call your mum or dad to tell them Harry's out there..." Sherlock usually wouldn't care, but he cares about John, and if Harry got hurt, he knew John would be too.  


"Er... right." John continues clinging until they get to the kitchen, finds the phone and dials his mother's work number from memory. The phone rings and the office answers, he asks for his mother and they page her. It is a few more minutes before he recognizes his mother's voice.  


"John? What is it sweety? You never call while I'm at work."  


"Mummy, Harry got drunk again and when Sherlock and I took her booze she chased us into the bathroom and screamed at us for twenty minutes and then she left. She went out."  


"Bugger.. not again..." John hears muffled speech from his mother as talks to someone else.  


"Are you and Sherlock okay by yourselves?"  


"Yeah, we'll lock the doors."  


"Alright, I'll take care of Harriet. Order your take away and do your homework. Love you sweety." His mother hangs up and John stares at the phone before setting it down. Suddenly he isn't hungry anymore.  


Sherlock looks over his friend, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Suddenly he reaches over and hugs John fiercely, "It'll be okay, John. I'll go lock the door okay?"  


He moves away and runs to the front door, slamming it closed and locking it before going back to John.  


"John, are you still hungry?" He asks, he doesn't care about people, he swears, except John, Mummy, Mycroft (but not very much) and Mrs. Hudson, their cook and butler.  


"No, I don't... I don't want to eat right now." John takes Sherlock's hand and clutches it tightly.  


"Can we just go.. er... watch something maybe?" He looks up at Sherlock with pleading eyes, wanting him to guide him.  


"It's okay, John, I'm not hungry either." Sherlock squeezes John's fingers.  


"Yes, let's go watch a movie," Sherlock would rather read or something more productive, but he could tell John was upset.  


"Anything, in particular, you want to watch?" He asks as he leads John into the sitting room, handing John a remote he found on the coffee table.  


"Uh..." John pulls up the tv guide on the screen and starts flipping through channels and to his God given luck, the second lord of the rings movie is on. He selects that and stares at the screen. It is twenty minutes in but who cares. John leans into Sherlock, cuddling close. It feels good to just zone out.  


Sherlock wraps an arm around John, letting him lean into him and cuddle close. He leans close, glad John trusted him to guide him but still worried. His eyes stay glued to the screen as he slips into his Mind Palace.  


An hour later John sits up and looks to Sherlock. His stomach growls loudly.  


"I think I'm hungry now." John laughs, halfhearted but still a laugh.  


Sherlock snaps out of his gaze, blinking at John, "Uh, so take out?" He asks, taking John's hand, worrying his lip between his teeth once more. He squeezes John's fingers, pulling him towards the kitchen.  


"Please, " he takes Sherlock by the hand and they return to the kitchen where he gets the takeaway menus and the phone.  


"What do you want to order? " he offers the menu to Sherlock.  


Sherlock takes a random menu, skimming it.  


He hands it back, "I'm not too hungry, I'll just have some wanton soup." He offers John a smile, "And you?" He asks.  


"Pork fried rice and dumplings." John doesn't even look at the menu, he always gets the same thing. He dials the number and puts the menu down when he is done.  


"You sure you don't want anything else?"  


Sherlock nods, "I don't eat much anyway, John, don't worry."  


He takes John's hand, squeezing his fingers, "I'm fine, okay." He smiles, "How long?"  


"They said twenty minutes." John puts the phone on the receiver and takes Sherlock's hand again. "Let’s check on our Mystery Plant."  


Sherlock nods, letting John lead him back into his room. They enter; Sherlock perching on the edge of John's bed, picking up his journal from where he'd left it. He opens his journal and starts doodling in the margins of a page.  


Awhile later the takeaway delivery rings and John buzzes them in. As they wait for the delivery man to arrive at the door he gathers the money.  


"Mummy should be home around ten..." He looks at the clock, it is six pm now. "Um... do you think Mycroft will let you stay?" John asks this bashfully, scared that Sherlock would think him to be a coward for not wanting to be alone.  
Sherlock follows his friend faithfully, tilting his head at John's words, "I'm sure, I'll call him after dinner though."  


He briefly takes John's hand, squeezing his friend's fingers with a slight smile. He lets go and follows John to the foyer, head tilted as he examines the floor rug  


John glances at Sherlock as he is busying himself with his rug and is about to ask him what is so interesting when the delivery person knocks on the door. He unlocks the door but keeps the chain in place, opening it to check who is there.  


"How much?"  


"Eleven pounds fifty." John eyes the man before closing the door and then undoes the chain and hands the twenty-pound note and takes his change and the takeaway bag.  


Once the door is closed he asks Sherlock, "What are you doing?"  


Sherlock had slipped into his Mind Palace, the rug wasn't really of interest, and the older boy's voice snaps him out of it.  


The taller boy looks back up, blinking a bit before flushing slightly, "Just thinking, sometimes I get a bit lost in there." He says, tapping his forehead gently, "uh need any help?" He offers, reaching out a hand.  


John laughs at that and shakes his head.  


"I've got it." He takes Sherlock's hand instead and walks to the kitchen where there is an island with chairs surrounding it. He places the takeaway bag on the table and then goes to fetch the tableware.  


"Would you like a drink?"  


"Just water, please." Sherlock squeezes his friend's fingers before letting go, taking the flatware the other took out, "I'll set the table if you get drinks." He tells John, smiling, usually, he'd never offer to do something like set the table, but he didn't want John to be doing all this stuff for him, he didn't like it, at least not with John.  


He knew he could absurd sometimes, asking John to grab something that was in his pocket for him or a pencil that's just fallen by his foot but he didn't want to get himself.  


"Righto Captain." John uses the water filter on the ice box to get a glass for himself and Sherlock. When he gets back to the table, Sherlock had everything laid out and smiles.  


"Thanks."  


"Not a problem." Sherlock spoons his soup in silence, moving to his wantons soon after, he sips some water.  


They tuck in and eat silently, just looking at each other every so often. John doesn't have anything to say and Sherlock, being Sherlock doesn't have to say anything - his presence is all he needs.  


Sherlock gives John a smile as he finishes his food. He picks up his bowl and flatware and puts them in the sink, "What do you want to do with the containers?" He asks.  


"There is a bin just under the sink." John tells Sherlock, eating the last of his dumplings. His pork fried rice half eaten - he prefers his dumplings more than anything, he can save it for a snack later or bring it for lunch tomorrow.

He looks at the clock. Half past. Mycroft would probably be expecting a call from them to ask for a ride for Sherlock.  


"Did you want to call your brother while I clean up?" He asks, swallowing his last bite and climbs down from his chair with the plate in hand.  


The taller boy finishes putting the containers into the bin. He looks up to John at his words, shrugging.  


"Probably should," he moved to the table, picking up the phone and dialing home.  


As the connection clicks Sherlock speaks, "Hello, Mycroft."  


"Sherly, it's getting pretty late. I was wondering where you were. I was about to come over myself." Mycroft looks to Winston telling him it’s his brother.  


"Should Winston and I come and fetch you?"  


John comes up behind Sherlock and leans close to the phone to listen in. Normally this would be considered rude. For them, its normal and probably rude not to be nosy about each other's phone calls.  


"John says his mum gets out of work around ten, you can come pick me up after." Explains Sherlock, leaning into John slightly. A small smile quirks his lips, "How's that?"  


"That is fine, but why are you two alone? I thought John said his sister would be home." Mycroft frowns, looking at Winston who cocks and eyebrow at him.  


John holds Sherlock's hand, hoping Sherlock doesn't tell Mycroft what happened.  


"She went to a friend's house," Sherlock lies smoothly. Even Mycroft couldn't tell, "John and I are perfectly safe, we locked the door, and it's a safe neighborhood."  


He arches a brow slightly, surely it can be heard in his voice. He smirks softly, squeezing John's fingers.  


Mycroft purses his lips, not liking his brother being on his own like this.  


"Alright, Winston and I will be around with the car at quarter after ten. Please be careful. I love you Sherlock.”  


Sherlock rolls his eyes, "Myc," he whines softly, he eyes John, then sighs softly and cups his hand over his mouth and the receiver, "I love you too, bye," he whispers, hanging up.  


John smiles at Sherlock and squeezes his hand back, happy he has such a good older brother.  


Mycroft smiles and clicks the phone off, hanging it up on the receiver. At least Sherlock still says it back.  


"I like your brother." John admits, not at all bothered by how Sherlock is with Mycroft; if anything he is jealous of the relationship. "Nothing like Harry..."  


Sherlock nods, "Yeah, he's pretty cool, but he barely plays with me anymore.." Sherlock sighs softly, taking John's hand and pulling him back into the sitting room.  


"Um, you want to watch another movie or something?" He asks, not liking the sad look on John's face.  


"Ah sure, you pick this time. " John snuggles up to Sherlock as they had been before. After handing him the remote and stares at the tv.  


Sherlock had put on a documentary on bees. It isn't long before John dozes off. Soon Sherlock dozed off as well, head leaning on John's  


At ten pm this is what Mr. Watson comes home to with a smile. Harriet had been apprehended by the Scotland Yard per her instruction to get sober and learn some tough love. She'd threatened her with this last time and being a good parent, she followed through.  


"Wake up sleepy heads." She pets Sherlock's and John's heads, waking them.  


"Mummy?" John yawns, staring up at his mother half lidded.  


Sherlock groggily rubs his eyes, "Ah, good evening, Mrs. Watson." He yawns softly, before leaning his head back on John's shoulder.  


"Hello Sherlock," she turns to John. "Your sister has been dealt with. I'm proud of you for handling it so well." She kisses his forehead and then pets Sherlock's hair.  


"And thank you for taking such good care of my Johnny."  


"It's not a problem at all Mrs. Watson, John's my best friend, it's what I do." Sherlock turns to John and smiles sleepily.  


"John, we should clean up your room." Sherlock offers, still weary Mrs. Watson, he'd never actually met her, only heard about her.  


"Thanks mummy," John gets up and brings Sherlock by the hand to his room, still half asleep.  


Mrs. Watson watches the boys walk to John's room and her heart swells happily. Her son as a wonderful friend.  


Sherlock perches on John's bed, picking up his things and putting them in his pack, "This was fun, John, thank you for inviting me over."  


"Thank you," John says in return clutching to his best friend, arms tight around him. "You can come over any time."  


Sherlock smiles softly, hugging him back, "It's no problem, John. And you can come over to mine anytime." He squeezes John a tad more.  


They hear a knock on the front door from John's room.  


"Oh, you must be Mycroft." Mrs. Watson greets when she opens the door, smiling at Sherlock's older brother. "I'm John's mother, you have a lovely younger brother.  


"Oh, nice to meet you Mrs. Watson. Thank you, I've done my best in bringing Sherlock up to be a tremendous individual."

Mrs. Watson stares at Mycroft before smiling brightly. That was the last thing she expected; such a noble family, the elder son raising the younger?  


"I can see that; John and Sherlock are in his room. It is just through there and to the right."  


"Thank you." Mycroft shows himself to John's room, smiling.  


"Looks like it’s time for you to go..." John frowns, still hugging to his best friend.  


Sherlock squeezes John back and let's go to take his hand and pull him up to his feet.  


"Walk me out?" He asks, shouldering his pack, and leading John out of his room and to the foyer.  


"Hello, Mycroft." He gives a small smile.  


"Yea, he holds Sherlock's hand as they walk out, meeting Mycroft who smiles at them.  


John watches as Mycroft looks down at them affectionately and then a new emotion glances his face when Mycroft looks to Mrs. Watson who shares the same one.  


"See you tomorrow Captain."  


Mrs. Watson almost coos at the cute term of endearment. The look she had shared with Mycroft had been a knowing one. Those two were destined to be together for the rest of their lives. It would not be un-welcomed by either party.  


"Bye, John!" Sherlock hugs John tightly one last time before he takes Mycroft's hand.  


"Good night John, Mrs. Watson. Come along Sherly." Mycroft extends his hand to his baby brother.  


"Don't call me that!" The younger Holmes whines softly as his brother leads him out of the building.  


"Bye..." John watches his best friend leave and then clings to his mother who picks him up and carts him to his room, tucking him into bed the way that she used to before her working hours turned into a nightmare.  


Sherlock smiles up at Winston as they get to the car and slips in before Mycroft.  


Mycroft pulls Sherlock into his lap and cuddles him close. He would be a liar if he said he had been worried about leaving his baby brother alone like that. Scared even.  


"Sherlock..." he murmurers, pressing a loving kiss to the top of his curls.  


Sherlock rolls his eyes at his brother but still snuggles against his brother.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Rugby Captain!Greg, Sirus, and serious questions.

Sherlock swings John's hand as they walk down the path to the high school building, Mycroft had a meeting and told Sherlock that the pair should meet him by the high school's library. It was Friday, they were going to have a sleepover.

"We can use Mycroft's telescope tonight, he said so, we can stargaze." He smiles at his friend.

"Oh! That sounds awesome, we should get out at dusk so we can look for Venus." John exclaims, fingers laced with his best friend's as they swing them while walking to the high school. He is excited about their sleepover. They now occur every single week, it is still amazing that the two were reunited and now they are never apart if it can be helped.

"What are we having for dinner?" John asks as he's always hungry

Neither of the boys notices the older boy walking several paces behind them. A wicked smile on his face. He is a few years older than the two and he sees them in the cafeteria from time to time and he always has the desire to approach and pick them apart. He usually has bigger fish to fry but looks like his schedule just opened up.

Sherlock nod excitedly, "Yeah, and I could bring out my star book!" He chuckles. After a few moments, he notices the sound of feet behind them. He tugs on John's hand and stops. He turns and spots the older boy. The taller boy already knows the possible outcome, recognizing the older boy as a bully among the older classes.

"Can we help you?" He asks coldly, his icy, calculating eyes boring into the older boy.

"Aw, the little fags are skipping off down the yellow brick road together?" The older boy laughs at his own ridiculous joke before turning his wicked gaze onto the boys again.

"Sherlock..." He whispers, a bit fearfully, clinging firmly to Sherlock's hand. John lets out an undignified yelp as the bully grabs them both by the front of their uniform shirts.

"Now, this is how this going to work..." The bully starts making threats that John is too freighted to hear clearly, praying Sherlock, his Captain will get them out of this.

Sherlock sneers, being picked on obviously frightened him, but it wasn't the first time.

"Excuse me, you're spitting on our faces." He starts calmly, the older boy laughs and shakes him a bit at his interruption before starting his threats once more.

"Did you know that most homophobic people are statistically the most likely to actually be gay?" Sherlock interrupted once more, a slight smirk on his little Cupid's bow lips.

John glances at Sherlock as he said that, eyes widening.

"Wh-what!?" The bully exclaims. "You watch your mouth you little shit!" The bully draws his arm back, releasing John who stumbles back, in turn, to punch Sherlock in the face. His arm, however, is grabbed tightly before he can throw his punch, he looks back to see a tall, well built high school boy in a rugby letterman jacket over his high school uniform.

"Oi, why don't you put down the kid half your size?!" The high school student raises a brow, the bully's eyes widen slightly in anger and he drops Sherlock, who ooffs softly on the pavement, rubbing his bum, John rushing to his side. The older boy grabs the back of the neck of the bully's jacket, pulling him away from the two boys, "Get! Go before I change my mind about not punching the bloody prick who threatens kids half his size!" The bully runs off once he is free, sprinting out of there like his hair is on fire.

The teen turns back to John and Sherlock holding out his hands to them.

"Alright then?"

John looks up at the older boy who had helped them and clings to Sherlock, pulling him to his feet. He stares at the kind, comforting look on his face and reaches his free hand to take the teenagers.

"Thank you for helping us." He says quietly.

"Not a problem, berks like that shouldn't pick on you little guys." The older boy ruffles Sherlock's curly hair, "Though you're not that little, are you, Holmes?"

Sherlock raises a brow at the high schooler, squeezing John's fingers, "You know my brother then?" He asks.

The older teen nods, blushing lightly at the mention of the older brother, "Kinda, I'm Greg Lestrade, you Holmes are beanstalks..." He chuckles softly before looking the pair over, "You two okay though, he didn't hurt you right?"

"I'm fine, Are you okay Captain? "He asks Sherlock, still holding hands with both Sherlock and Greg. "We were going to meet Mycroft at the high school," John says, starting to feel safe with Greg.

"I'm fine," Sherlock squeezes John's fingers reassuringly before looking to Greg, "We're supposed to wait at the library." Greg nods.

"Gotcha. I'll take you guys there, and wait for him with you." He behind leading the boys to the building.

John finds himself still holding Greg's hand, clutching Sherlock's fingers until they reach the library and sit in their own area.

"Thank you again," John says to Greg with a smile, settling at a table with Sherlock, bags on the desk top.

Greg chuckles softly as he leans against the desk, hands in the pockets of his jacket, "Not a problem, John." He looks up when Mycroft approaches, swallowing nervously.

-

Mycroft packs his things, the meeting over. He runs a hand through his ginger hair and sighs, loosening his tie. As class president, there is a lot of pressure on the fourteen-year-old.

Hoping Sherlock listened, he heads to the library to pick the boys up. Much to his surprise, the handsome and popular captain of the rugby team is with them. Mycroft swallows hard and walks up to them, nervous as hell. He never met him, not really, but he is handsome and popular... how could he not know him? They are in some of the same classes.

-

"Hello John, Sherlock." He turns to Greg nervously, but keeps his cool, "hello, they aren't bothering you, are they?" He is being polite, knowing most teenagers do not like the small children.

The rugby player gives a smile, flushing slightly, "Not a problem, just making sure they're okay, they had a bit of a run in with a bully." He pushes from the table and ruffles a hand through Sherlock's curls, who gives him a slightly annoyed look, which Greg chuckles at.

"We're fine though," Sherlock adds, taking a firm hold of John's hand. He pulls him and John up from the table so they can leave quicker.

Greg sticks out a hand, "We haven't really met before, Gregory Lestrade. Everyone calls me Greg."

"M-Mycroft Holmes." He takes Greg's hand and shakes it, shocked at his stutter. How did he have this effect on him? He didn't even hear his brother respond as he talks to Greg.

-

John giggles at Sherlock's response, ruffling his hair.

"I like your curls, Captain." John pays no mind to Mycroft and Greg.

Sherlock pouts, "No, you'll muss them up." He takes John's other hand, pouting even more at his friend's amused face.

-

Greg smiles at Mycroft's cute stutter, letting go of Mycroft's hand after a moment, "Well, see you around Mycroft." He gives the younger teen a little salute and a wink before turning and patting John's head, "Stay out of trouble you two." Before leaving the library, walking down the hall with his hands in his pockets.

"See you around." Mycroft nods to Greg and once he had walked off he relaxes visibly.

"Yes Greg, thank you." John giggles again, pouncing on Sherlock and hugs him.

"You're silly." He says to Sherlock, back on topic of his hair.

Sherlock rolls his eyes before wraps his arms around John.

After staring after Greg until he's left the library, Mycroft looks to the boys. "Ready to go?"

"Yup!" John grabs his and Sherlock's bags then, of course, Sherlock's hand as they head out.  
Sherlock looks to his brother and nods, examining his brother's face closely.

After a few minutes as they're walking out the high school he speaks, "You like him.." He states plainly, smirking when John giggles at his comment and squeezes his hand.

Mycroft blushes so hard his ears turn red. No hiding it from Sherlock. Can't hide... well anything from his brilliant and perceptive baby brother.

"Of course I do..." He mutters.

Sherlock tilts his head slightly, "He's nice, brighter than he looks... But if he hurts you I'll make his death look like an accident." States the seven-year-old, with the most serious face.

"Sherlock..." John giggles quietly, finding his intimidation both sweet and scary.

Sherlock chuckles softly before smirking and dragging John farther ahead of his brother.

Mycroft blanches at the seriousness coming from the seven-year-old. It is quite... scary. He swallows hard but then smiles. His baby brother is already turning into a strong young man, with his faithful best friend at his side.

He feels pride warming in his chest, only for it to be smacked down at the realization he will now be pestered by the seven-year-old about the rugby player.

He doubts Greg will even show him any interest, he is two years his senior... Why would he want anything to do with Mycroft? With a heavy, heartfelt sigh he follows the follows the boys, feeling pathetic.

-

Once at the Holmes residence. John and Sherlock sprint, giggling toward Sherlock's room wanting to get their home work done so they can spend the rest of the weekend in each other's company, uninterrupted.

"Come on Captain! We have a ton of fractions to do and an essay to write!"

The taller boy rolls his eyes, whining softly, "I hate these essays out teacher makes us write, the topics are soooooo boring!" He flops down onto his bed, sprawled out across the bed cloth like as starfish, "Not to mention the fractions, so dull, I can do Mycroft's maths homework." He sputters out a sigh as he turns to look at his best friend, pouting at his amused expression.

"Fine," he huffs and slumps of the bed, taking out his homework and pencil to join John.

John lays on his stomach, Sherlock leaning into his side, cross legged so that he can lay on top of John dramatically as he normally does when they do homework together.

"If you need help, I'm right here." John teases, knowing Sherlock is the smartest person in their year. If not the school.

Sherlock huffs softly, rolling his eyes and taking out his essay to draft as John laid down, flopping against him as per usual.

Not long after starting, was Sherlock finished and very bored. The talkative boy rolls over so he is facing John more fully, small fingers steepled.

"Bored.." He drawls.

"You're always bored." John replies, finishing the last paragraph of his essay with a neat '.' at the end.

Once his pencil is put down he leans on his arm and stares at his friend.

"Well, I'm finished... it's not dark out yet, do you want to do something first?"

The younger boy tilts his head slightly, "You could help me with an experiment." He smiles widely, sitting up, "Do you wanna?"

"Okay! "John sits up, folding his legs into a pretzel, staring expectantly.

Sherlock chuckles and pads off to his closet. He carefully pulls something out. It's a box, obviously unopened. He shifts it onto its side, pushing it in front of John.

"Mycroft, Winston, Mary and Mrs. Hudson surprised me with this, it's a mouse maze... Mycroft said once I've put it together he has another surprise."

"Oh!" John grins. "I love putting things together!" He pulls out the instructions, glancing them over casually.

"I'd assume the second surprise to be a mouse."

Sherlock nods, a smile curling his lips. He starts to take pieces out of the box, organizing them in his own manic manner.

"A package came a few days ago, air holes poked in the sides, said fragile ... I'm hoping it's blind," he pauses, "Not to be cruel or anything, a blind mouse would be more interesting and most likely easier to train and get through mazes, better because of their sense of smell... And also those mice are always the ones no one wants, most are used to feed the snakes in pet shops."

The tall boy frowns, examining a piece of the maze with semi-sad eyes.

"I think that's good of you Captain.. taking care of what no one else would even think to look at..." John pauses, realizing he'd described his reaction to Sherlock and leans over the pieces to hug his best friend.

Sherlock smiles softly and hugs John back, squeezing tightly. The statement is true for both of them.

After a moment he pulls back, "the boards are inter locking, the set comes with different ways we can set the maze," the boy takes a booklet out of the box and flips through it. "Hmm," he sighs softly before showing John a page, "Think we can do this one?"

John takes the paper and looks it over, cocking his head to the side.

"Ah, yeah, seems simple enough... what could go wrong?" John looks at the pieces and picks one up.

"Let's get started, eh?"

Sherlock nods and picks up the universal plot piece and lays it on the floor. "Okay, so this piece goes." He picks up a piece and looks at the booklet which he had smoothed out on the floor between the two boys, "Here," he slides it into place.

He looks to John with a small smile curling his little Cupid's bow lips.

John smiles and adds the next piece, following the booklet the way Sherlock is.

"Why does everyone keep suggesting we are fags?" John suddenly asks. "My mum calls dad's cigarettes fags... I don't really get it." He stares at Sherlock, innocent mind baffled by the insult that he doesn't know to be an insult. Hopefully, Sherlock can explain it.

Sherlock's brows furrow as he picks up another piece and examines it closely by turning it over in his hands as he thinks.

"I think it's a vulgar equivalent to gay or homosexual..." The taller boy sighs softly, sliding the piece into place after consulting the booklet. "I believe they're saying we're gay..."

"Oh..." John recognizes that slang easy enough. "Would that be a bad thing?" He places another piece on the maze, it's coming together nicely.

"My sister is gay and my parents don't think there is anything wrong with it." John practically starts talking to himself. "I don't even think I know if I'm gay or whatever but it wouldn't matter to me, I mean, cause you and I will always be best friends."

John seems to completely miss the point that they are being insinuated to be in a homosexual relationship, even though they are children. Sherlock the local freak genius and John the tiny, smart boy who follows the freak around. It does not even cross his mind that people are frightened of them.

Sherlock tilts his head, considering John's words, after a moment he nods, "There isn't anything wrong with being gay, though I'm certain some religions consider being gay a sin... Or something... Religions are pretty boring." He takes up another piece after admiring their maze for so far.

After a moment he puts two and two together, the taller boy turns to John, "John, I think they're assuming we're 'boyfriends'... And that we.. threaten them in some way.." He puts another piece in play, frowning slightly.

"So what if we were? " John asks, extremely confused and upset that people don't like it when boys like other boys or girls like girls.

"How does that affect them? " John tightens his hold on the piece in his hand, frowning deeply.

He just doesn't understand.

Sherlock leans forward, and lays a hand on John's shoulder, "We're different, most people don't like things that are different." The taller boy frowns slightly.

"It doesn't matter if we're gay or not, we're still different to them."

John sighs and his shoulders slump... He and Sherlock would always be different - the outcasts and the freaks, wouldn't they?

"Well, I don't like it." He sticks his tongue out. Suddenly a smirk plays across his face, the delinquent part in him coming out. "Let's conduct an experiment."

He's been hanging around Sherlock for too long.

The younger boy quirks an eyebrow, "Oh, you want to experiment? Well then, the maze can wait." Sherlock scoots closer to his friend, curious eyes glowing slightly with unusual warmth.

He gives John a smile, "What is it?" He asks with interest.

"Let's pretend to be actually gay. I'd like to see some of their response if we were to proudly display it like my sister does. If it really offends some of them so much, should be quite funny, especially if it frightens them."

"We really wouldn't even have to do much differently, people already think it of us, but if we were to act the typical way they see them, it might be different."

Sherlock purses his lips slightly and rocks back onto his bum, "Hmm, maybe, but we're just kids... I don't know if there's much more we can do, we already hold hands all the time, we're always together, we share almost everything.." He steeples his fingers, tapping his indexes against his lips.

"I know," John falls backward, laying on his back with his legs still crossed. He laughs.

"That's pretty much the point, isn't it? We're kids, how can they say things like that about us?"

He laughs louder. "People are so stupid and judgmental!"

Sherlock gives a soft chuckle as well, flopping down atop his friend, starfish style. He smiles, "Now you see, people are idiots."

"I've been saying it for awhile now." He clasps his hands under his chin and atop John's sternum. The fact is, he knows he's light and that he's not too heavy to lay atop his friend.

"Yes, yes. You're right as always Captain." John laughs, his chest rising and falling makes the taller boy move slightly with each breath. Casually he pulls at one of Sherlock's curls watching it bounce back when he lets go. Brilliantly distracted, he does it over and over.

"I wonder what it'd be like." he says aloud.

Sherlock chuckles softly at his friend's antics and the nice feeling of John's fingers on his hair. "What do you mean, John?" He asks, eyes on John's.

"To be gay, with you. I know we're just kids, but you've got to wonder sometimes about the things we'd do as adults."

John plays with a different curl, his other hand behind the back of his head. He feels as if he is playing with a puppy almost or a kitten like he had when he visited the farm last year with his parents.

The taller boy purses his lips in thought, "I'd think it'd be like dating anyone else, female or otherwise. With some.. ridiculous people complications." He shrugs lightly.

Sherlock hums softly at John playing with his curls, ever since mummy got sick almost no one played with his hair. Truth be told, the little genius loved it, it made him feel safe and cared for.

John smiles. "I think we'll end up together. You'll think everyone to be too stupid and I'll just not leave your side anyway." John muses, being nine, it's unclear whether or not he understands what he is saying; children say the strangest things anyway. He continues petting Sherlock's hair, playing with it gently, the content look on Sherlock's face makes him want to do it more.

Sherlock raises his brows, a lopsided smile playing over his tiny cupid bow lips, "That's the most likely outcome. No one else can stand me like you can, John. That's why you're my one and only and best friend." He hums softly after that, gaze searching the room.

"John, will you promise me something?" He asks softly.

John doesn't stop playing with Sherlock's hair, smiling back at his best friend. "Sure, anything."

"Will you be my friend forever, no matter what? Because I know I can be moody... And I can say things... things that hurt people... And I don't want to lose you... Because of that." Sherlock's eyes flicked down.

"You can be mad all you want though, as long as you stay my friend... And I promise to be sorry and not let you down all I can." He holds out his pinky, biting his lip, gaze moving back to John's.

John giggles, linking his pinky with Sherlock's, gripping it tightly. He wears the most brilliant of smiles that he only Sherlock can coax out of him.

"I promise. I'll always be your friend and try to not get mad at you as long as you're my friend and you never change."

Sherlock smiles brightly, letting go of John's pinky and leaning forward to wrap his arms around John the best he can.

"You're my best friend, John, my only friend, I don't ever want to lose you."

John sits up so that he can return the hug fully and firmly, Sherlock slipping into his lap.

"You won't Sherlock. I promise."

-

There is a soft knock at the door, Mycroft standing in the door way where he enters after a moment and raises his eyebrows at Sherlock sitting in John's lap, hugging him tightly.

"Ah... hello boys."

John looks up as Mycroft enters, slowly separating so he can see him properly, Sherlock just holds tighter, making him giggle and hold back just as tight.

"I see you're setting up the maze..." Mycroft He smiles lightly, he would never admit how happy - yet jealous of his brother he is. So happy and has a friend who loves him dearly.

"Yup!" John exclaims, "it's coming along great!"

"I see." Another smile, hands shoved into the pockets of his house trousers, they are hanging lower on his hips than usual. Over the summer he had been slimming down and fretting over his diet, not wanting to be talked about behind his back for one more thing such as being overweight. His smile almost wavers at that thought but the smile on his brother's face saves it.

"Yes, would you like to help us finish?" John crawls over to the maze, picking up the piece he was using before and sets it in place.

"Why not," Mycroft sits on the floor beside the maze and looks to Sherlock, "you don't mind, do you baby brother?"

Sherlock pouts for a moment before nodding, "Okay," a smile stole across his lips as he shifts off John's lap to sit next to him, settling in and picking up the booklet. He holds it out to Mycroft, showing him the page they're using.

"We're doing this one." He smiles, giving Mycroft the booklet and picking up a piece, sliding it into place.

Mycroft glances at the booklet, memorizing it and then picks up the next piece to add on to the maze. He looks up at the way John watches Sherlock, smiling as they work to build the maze. A smile sets on his face as well as a blush when he thinks about Greg Lestrade. It's silly to think of the older boy in his opinion, he has far too many responsibilities to think about a boyfriend and why would the rugby player be interested in him.

"Mycroft?" John interrupts his train of thought. "May I have that." He holds his hand out for the booklet.

"Ah, yes." He passes it over, pressing the last piece of his own section into place, watching as the two boys finish the rest.

Sherlock watches his brother, who looks to be in deep thought. After Mycroft blushes, he knows who his brother is thinking of. The taller boy smirks as he and John finish the maze.

"It's done!" He smiles,"we did it."

He leans forward to examine the maze with a twinkle in his eyes, "Brilliant." John claps his hands once and leans back to admire their work. He smiles at Sherlock proudly.

"It looks great." Mycroft compliments with a grin, getting up off the floor. "I'll be right back." He walks out of the room.

John giggles At the knowing look Sherlock gives him, Sherlock beams after his brother, before looking to his friend and scoots closer.

"We did great, it looks amazing!" He smiles, wrapping an arm around John.

"Yes, it is perfect!" John wraps his arm around Sherlock's waist, smiling.

Mycroft re-enters the room, carrying a small box with air holes in it.

"Here is your second surprise, Sherlock," he hands over the box, watching with a small smile as he waits for Sherlock to open the box. John watches excitedly.

Sherlock carefully handles the box, setting it softly on the ground before he opens it. Inside reveals a little chocolate colored ball of velvety fur, the ball unfurls, revealing a twitching pink nose and whiskers. A soft smile curls Sherlock's lips in a lopsided grin.

He carefully lowers a hand into the box, letting the little mouse sniff at his hand, he giggles softly at the tickle of whiskers. Sherlock makes sure the mouse isn't afraid as he scoops it up gently in cupped palms.

After a moment or two, he settles the mouse back in the box. Careful not to knock the box over, he lunges at Mycroft, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you, Myc!!"

Mycroft holds Sherlock tightly, petting his head lovingly, unable to conceal his own smile.

"I'm glad you like him, the cage for him is in a box set aside, already set up for him. What do you think we should name him?"

John smiles at the two brothers, looking at the cute little mouse in the box.

The taller boy purses his lips in thought, steepling his fingers by his chin. After a few moments he tilts his head, "I'm not really sure what I should name him." He looks to his friend, "What do you think, John?" Sherlock gives a smile.

John looks at the adorable little mouse. Tilting his head to the side. "Let me think...."

Mycroft watches the two boys, letting his hand fall from Sherlock's head.

"How about... Ah...Sirius? Like the star?"

"Perfect!" Sherlock exclaims, huddling to lean over the box with John, smiling at the small creature.

"It is a good name... alright, now try to not frighten the poor thing just yet, get to know it a little before experimenting with the maze," Mycroft informs them calmly. "Need anything else?"

"We'll be careful with him," John responds, smiling still.

Sherlock nods at John's words, "I would never dare," he murmurs, smiling at the small mouse, he looks to Mycroft, "His cage, and maybe.. His records?" He asks softly.

"As you wish." Mycroft leaves the room to get the rest of the things for Sirius, deciding to leave them alone after.

Then he looks at his friend, smiling, "You want to hold him, John?" He offers, giggling softly at the mouse's whiskers tickling his palms as he shifted itself and move around.

"Yea! " John holds his hands to hold the mouse, giggling as the tiny creature practically vibrates in his hands.

Sherlock watches John giggle with a smile, scooting closer. "John thank you for helping me," he carefully wraps an arm around John again, a lopsided grin on his face.

John smiles they look at Sirius and pets him, he looks at Sherlock confused, but side hugs him back as well.

"What for?"

"You helped me with the maze, and well, for just being my friend," Sherlock explains softly, a small shy smile on his lips. He shrugs slightly, stroking the back of his index finger over Sirius' velvet fur.

John hugs Sherlock again, being mindful of the mouse as laughs.

"We'll be best friends forever Captain, don't you forget it." John beams at his friend and the strokes Sirius gently.

"Oh!" he sees the cage and the file for Sirius that had been dropped off without them noticing. "Let's see how Sirius likes his new home!"

Sherlock takes the small mouse as he's offered, and moves to the mouse's box, carefully setting him back inside so John and he can put up the cage.

Sherlock takes the cage from John and sets it on a clean space away from his workbench, "John, can you grab him, please?" He asks, flipping open the cage's hatch then picking up the file to riffle through it.

John does as he is told, carefully scooping up the mouse in his hands and brings him over to the table where the cage is.

"Shall I put him in?" He inspects the cage. It has nice bedding, colorful. A hidey house, water, food and an exercise wheel. There are some tubes for Sirius to run about. John thinks he'll like it.

Sherlock looks to John, nodding a tad distractedly as his gaze moves back to the file. He turns to watch John put Sirius in his cage a small smile on his lips, "He is blind," he states, settling the file by the cage and peering inside, smiling fondly at the mouse.

After John had put Sirius into the cage the chocolate brown mouse immediately began exploring his new home, sniffing about.

"Looks like you got lucky then." John smiles at Sirius who finds the water bottle and begins drinking from it for a great while, getting his fill.

"Oh, it's dusk, we should go out if we want to see Venus!" John exclaims, excited to see the planet in the night sky.

Sherlock watches Sirius settle, standing beside John. He nods as his friend speaks, moving to latch the cage.

"Okay, let's go ask Mycroft to set up his telescope." He takes John's hand and pulled him out of the room, down the hall and into the study.

"Myc, can you set up your telescope?"

Mycroft puts his pen down on top of his homework and nods.

"Yes, where should we set it up? " he asks as he pulls the telescope from the closet.

John looks at Sherlock before answering.

"The backyard! Big space right? "

Sherlock nods, "Yeah, the back yard," he grabs John's hand once more with a small smile on his lips.

"Let's go, John! Please hurry, Myc." He pretty much drags John downstairs and into the coat room.

He pulls his coat off its hook and puts it on, grabbing John's as well, since John was a little bit too short.

John chases after his best friend, pulling his coat on as they run outside, staring at the dusky sky.  
"Look!" John immediately finds Venus, it is only visible to the naked eye at dusk. "Right there." He points, smiling. He wants to look at it through the telescope.

Mycroft is right behind them, carrying his telescope and once he gets to where they want and then he begins setting it up as quickly as possible.

Sherlock stares up at the spot in the dusky sky, following John's point, smiling softly. He moves to John's side, almost vibrating with excitement.

As Mycroft finishes setting the telescope he gives John a 'you first' gesture. He tugs on Mycroft's sleeve until he lowers himself to Sherlock's level best he can. Sherlock presses a rare affectionate kiss to his big brother's cheek.

"Thank you, Myc."

Mycroft smiles brilliantly at his baby brother and kisses the top of his head, ruffling his curls affectionately.

"Anything for you baby brother...." He pats his back, motioning him to join at John's side.

Sherlock pouts slightly as his brother ruffles his curls before he sidles up beside John, staring up at the night sky with wide eyes.

John is peering through the telescope, admiring how amazing Venus looks at that magnification. "Wow! this is amazing."

"How's it look, John?" He asks, a small smile tugging his lips.

John steps aside and pulls Sherlock up so he can look through. "It's amazing!" John leans against Sherlock as he looks through the telescope.

Mycroft smiles and sits on one of the benches not far off, not able to help himself in watching the two children together. As Sherlock's acting guardian, this is what made it worth it- Sherlock being happy.

Sherlock eagerly peers through the telescope, a small smile paints his tiny lips as he spots the planet.

"Oh, it looks amazing!" He pulls John against him slightly, hand grabbing John's, "It's sorta pretty, too." He murmurs a softer than before.

Mycroft shakes his head slightly at the way the two boys behave with each other. If their conversation from earlier that he overheard. Those two will end up married. He just hopes John has the decency to ask for his brother's hand.

John smiles, cuddling closer to his best friend. "Reminds me of your eyes. All the pretty colors, they are kind of like space."

Sherlock flashes John a soft surprised look, a flush burning across his pale cheeks. He leans closer to John, looking back through the telescope, "T-thank you, John. I guess."

"You're welcome Captain." John leans his head against Sherlock, staring at the sky with him. Until Winston calls the three of them in for dinner.

Sherlock turns and nods to the butler, moving to help Mycroft disassemble the telescope. When they're done, Sherlock takes John's hand and tugs him back into the house, dragging him into the dining room with a bright smile.

Their hands interlocked, they only let go When they are at the dinner table.

"You're becoming quite the regular here, aren't you John? " Winston asks happily.

John smiles brightly."Yes! I love it here! "

Sherlock smiles, very happy John's his friend.

-

Later that night, the boys are sitting on stools by Sirius' cage watching the little mouse move about. Sherlock's chin is propped up in his hands, he's thinking, about the bully from that afternoon, and all the other kids who made fun of the two of them, how unhappy that made John. He frowns, he didn't like John being unhappy.

"John, I won't let anybody pick on you again..." He finally says, turning his head to regard his friend.

John smiles and kisses Sherlock on the cheek, hugging him tightly. "And neither will I let anyone pick on you." Sherlock smiles brilliantly into John's shoulder, squeezing back even harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOW MANY TIMES DID WE USE: 'Small smile' or the word smile or hand holding? XD


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Niko here with Chapter 11 and the moment you've all been anticipating.
> 
> The birth of Mystrade.

Mycroft is walking down the hall, reading his notes from his previous class, a technique he learned to ensure memorization. He looks up, seeing Greg Lestrade at his locker. He smiles to himself and looks down at his notes again.

Greg looks up in time to catch Mycroft's gaze, and he smiles softly. The rugby player pushes back from his locker, shutting his locker door. He follows up and hides behind Mycroft's now open locker, hiding slightly behind his door. 

"Greg!" Mycroft is shocked to see the rugby player on the other side of his locker. He clears his throat to calm himself down.

"I, uh... is there anything I can do for you?" He asks, blushing faintly at the attention he is suddenly getting.

The rugby player blushes faintly as well, giving Mycroft a dashing smile, "Uh, well kinda, you see I've been having trouble in our English class, this play, I'm-uh- just not getting it, and the Shakespearean words? Yeah, I was wondering if y-you could help me, I don't know, during study hall or maybe after school?" He ruffles a hand through his spiky hair with a lopsided grin. 

Mycroft stares at Greg, shocked at the question but recovers quickly when he sees that Greg begins to lose confidence in himself due to his lack of response.

"Yes! " he says, a blush on his face, smiling.

"I- I'd love to, Shakespeare is a personal favorite of mine." He looks down, closing his locker. "I don't have any study halls, so after school?"

"Oh, good!" The older teen smiles his blush still there but the bright smile on his face takes away from it.

"Ah, where? At the library, mine, uh- yours?" He asks, his smile lessening, the thing was, Greg liked Mycroft, but he'd only ever really been with girls before, with boys it's always been kiss-DON'T-tell and usually in the moment. He came out as bisexual to a few close friends on the rugby team and they were shocked but accepted him for what he is. He thinks everything will work out with Mycroft... as long as the ginger is actually as interested in him as he hopes the younger teen to be. 

"Um.." Mycroft laughs lightly, looking away.  He'd never been in a relationship platonic nor romantic before, people tend to stay away from him; like his brother, he is too forward with what he thinks and makes enemies.  What would be proper of him?

"Well... we could... go to yours?"  He suggests, the library is too quiet, he might lose his cool and no way is he letting him over to his just yet.

Greg nods, "that'll be great, I can drive you there and to yours after if you'd like," he gives a brilliant smile, shifting his back pack on his shoulder.

"When can we start?" He asks softly after, hand lifting back up to ruffle his hair, a nervous habit.

Mycroft finds himself double checking his locker door before he replies.  What would he tell Winston and his brother?

"Today? It'd be best to not let you fall behind, yes?" His blush deepens slightly, heart racing, he is certain Greg can hear it.  "I'll," he clears his throat. "I'll see you after then, hm?"

Greg gives an eager nod, sparing the younger teen a dashing smile before he started away. 

"Yeah, see you Mycroft! Don't be late to your next lesson, kay?" He smiles before moving back down the hall, making his way to his next lesson. 

"You too! Goodbye!"  Mycroft watches the rugby player as he leaves, face breaking out into a brilliant smile and a blush on his cheeks.

His first sort of kind of 'date'... (If you can call tutoring a date. - Study date perhaps.) and with a handsome, older guy too! Mycroft suddenly mentally chides himself.   _'Behave Mycroft, you have a reputation to uphold.'_

He consoles himself and heads to his next class, hoping no one saw that.

((Time skip because))

Greg leans against Mycroft's locker with his hands in his letterman jacket, he knew for a fact that the younger teen came to his locker every day before the last bell to exchange his books and such. 

A brilliant smile breaks across his face as he spots Mycroft walking down the hall. 

"Hey Mycroft," he greets coolly, genuinely happy to see him.

"Hello Greg," Mycroft replies politely, smiling at the rugby player by his locker, heart beating a little faster. He clicks the code to the lock on his locker and then sorts through his things that he does and doesn't need. The ginger teen is desperately trying to not freak out, embarrass himself OR Greg. He swallows hard as he finishes sorting.

"Where are you parked?" He asks, trying to remain as calm as possible. He is both excited and nervous.

Greg gives the younger teen a fond lopsided grin, "Uh, in the back, I got here late this morning, so I ended up by where the buses load up the students." 

The rugby player sighs softly, "It may take us a bit to get out of the lot."

"That is fine," He says, finishing packing his bag, the zipper closing smoothly. "I believe we'll find something to talk about." He nods to Greg and they leave the locker, him at his side to follow to the parking lot. He suddenly finds himself unable to speak, too nervous. So much for talking.

Greg smiles at Mycroft, leading the younger teen out into the lot with a sweaty palm gently touching the small of his back. He is thankful Mycroft only twitches slightly at the sudden pressure- his touch and that he did NOT move away from him as he guides them along.

Mycroft blushes but relishes in the touch. Greg is a gentleman.

They have no time to chat anyway as Greg has them dodging cars and trucks pulling out of the lot, rounding the buses, guiding Mycroft along with him until they reach his slightly beat up Impala. The rugby player nervously fiddles with his keys, finally unlocking Mycroft's door and then his own.

"Ah, quite the foreign classic you've got there." Mycroft compliments, having an appreciation for such things. The ginger gets into the passenger seat, clicking his seat belt into place and waits for Greg to start the car. His mind blanks for anything to say as he sits there, smiling nervously.

Greg blushes faintly as Mycroft comments on his car, the teen gives a soft chuckle as he climbs into the driver's seat.  He starts the car and waits for an opening in the flow through the parking lot. A small frown mares his handsome face as he turns to look out the rear window.

"..." Mycroft opens and closes his mouth, looking out the window at all the commotion around them.  People trying to leave all at once, making Mycroft wonder why they bothered to leave so quickly.

"What is the hurry, I wonder?" He finally says in regards to the honking of horns to get out of the parking lot. People driving recklessly. Mycroft wonders if he'll ever get his license.

The rugby player catches the look of lost conversation on the younger teen's face, and he smirks, Mycroft was quite adorable, though Greg doubted the ginger knew so.

"Everyone wants to get on with their life, forget the unpleasantness of the day and relax after a day of hell on earth... Or as adults call it 'school'" the rugby player chuckles softly. Finally spotting a break in the flow, Greg back the car out quickly, earning a few honks from berks who think the world revolves around them. The older teen rolls his eyes as they exit the lot. 

"I'd certainly call it a torture chamber, I feel as if I'm surrounded by primitive idiots and not only that... my classes are far too easy for me."  He smiles a tiny smile to himself, wondering if that was a bit crass.

The older teen frowns slightly, though he supposes their classmates may seem a bit stupid and dull. He shrugs gaze flicking to Mycroft momentarily. He says nothing until they are on the road, biting his lip. 

"Oh... Winston will be wondering where I am..." Mycroft digs into his pocket and quickly sends a text to Winston on his mobile, hoping he'd not been waiting too long. At least Sherlock shouldn't be too upset, seeing as John comes over nearly every day after school.

He watches the younger teen pull out his mobile and raises a brow, "Winston? Who's that?" 

"The house driver and butler. He helps to take care of my brother and myself." He answers smiling up at Greg once he'd gotten a confirmation text. He asks that he be told of Sherlock's status. 

"At least he tries to, I spend most of my time making certain Sherlock is cared for and has as fulfilling of a childhood as possible."

The rugby player's eyes widen slightly, he'd know Mycroft came from a family with money, but a butler. Greg's cheeks flush slightly as he realizes he's been quiet for several minutes,  "W-wow, you must really love your brother, he seems like a real handful." The teen offered a chuckle to cover for his prolonged silence. 

Mycroft too blushes, knowing what Greg must be thinking due to his silence, thankful for when he breaks said silence with his attempt at tact.

"He is a troublemaker, but he is very bright." Mycroft smiles, he is so proud of him - always. "I'd do anything for him, I love him dearly."  

They are moving quickly, Mycroft unsure of where they are headed; he knows not where Greg lives.

"Do you have any siblings, Greg?"

Greg offers a warm smile as he looks out over the road, no more than a few minutes till they were at his house. He tilts his head at Mycroft's question.

"Ah, no, my father passed not too long after I was born and my mum already thought I was enough to handle." He gave a bit of a sad smile. 

"I was quite the troublemaker when I was my brother's age, no clue why mother thought the second would be any better." Mycroft hums.  "After father passed she kind of fell apart, so I'm caring for Sherlock now, I'm seven years his senior."

Mycroft smiles despite the pang of sadness he feels; caring for Sherlock makes him feel better, it is a task he willingly took on and is glad to be doing it.  He decides to text Winston again, asking him to tell Sherlock to wait up for him to do something later.

"Ah, sorry to darken the mood, is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

Greg gives the younger teen a look of empathy, his mum had always been a tad bit depressed throughout his childhood, though she'd been able to pull through for him for the most part. It was sad, such brilliant boys like Sherlock and Mycroft having to grow up depending on only each other, Mycroft taking care of his little brother.   

"Ah, never mind that... it's okay, we're here." He pulls into his driveway and shifts the car into park, taking the keys out. 

Mycroft gets out of the car, looking at the three story apartment building that has several similar ones situated next to each other. This is nothing like his manor or the Watson's family's slightly more luxurious entire floor apartment. It's in a decent part of town, and Mycroft doubts his family lives in anything larger than a two bedroom, seeing as he is an only child.  Still, he smiles, able to appreciate the idea of a simple life, where he could have his mother and Sherlock all to himself; a bit broken but it is still his family.

"Show me inside?"  He asks, polite as ever.

"Sure," Greg nods, slinging his bag over his shoulder, the older teen guides the other to the door with a gentle hand at the small of Mycroft's back. Said ginger blushes faintly the entire way to the door of the ground floor apartment, when Greg unlocks it, he misses the closeness. 

He opens the door, gesturing Mycroft inside, "Nothing fancy, just two bedrooms, an eat in kitchen, sitting room, and a loo." He gives a slightly shy smile. He steps insides after Mycroft, toeing off his chucks, "Your shoes if you could." He mutters softly. 

Mycroft steps in, looking around the entrance and into the sitting room.  

"Oh, yes of course." He removes his shoes carefully and places them neatly beside Greg's and follows him into the sitting room. It is simply decorated but very nice; warm and feels well lived in. His home is big and pretty empty, save for Sherlock, Winston, Ms. Hudson and their cook Mary that they don't really use all that often.

"This is _very_ cozy," he compliment, sincerely wishing he had a place like this growing up. He turns to Greg. "I'd love to see your room." Mycroft is polite as ever, it is one of two of his default settings, the other one being manipulative and controlling.

"Ah, thank you," Greg gives a shy nod, rubbing the back of his neck. He flushes slightly once again, "uh, sure... It may be a tad bit messy." 

The older teen leads Mycroft down the hall, past the kitchen, his mum's room, until he's at his bedroom door. He pushes open the door and peeks inside, frowning at the slight mess. He gestures Mycroft inside, skirting around the younger teen, tidying up nervously. 

"It's no bother to me," Mycroft says earnestly, dropping his bag beside the desk in the room and sits down in his computer chair.  He smiles at the sight of a Sisters of Mercy poster. He likes that band - when he has time for music, which is rare; so many homework assignments for his honors classes. He'll graduate this year if everything goes as planned. Three years ahead of everyone, Universities are already battling each other to have him study at their schools.

"My room isn't always much better, and Sherlock's can be far worse."  When Greg finally settles down on the tidying, kicking some things beneath his bed, he speaks. "Ah, so did you want to get started or...?"

The older teen nods, chuckling softly, he guesses even teenage geniuses have messy bedrooms; this somehow comforts him.

Greg blushes, rubbing the back of his neck and clears his throat, "Uh, yeah sure, it's this last poem we read today... I just don't... Uh, get it." He drops his bag onto his bed and digs around for his copy of the poetry book. Flipping to one of the pages, he scoots his stool over across from Mycroft and hands him the book.

"It's this sonnet... I think I can relate to it a bit but... I mean it's about _pinning_ right? Wanting to be with someone but not knowing how they feel, yeah?" Greg looks at him with intense eyes.

"Okay, let me take a look." Mycroft notices how close Greg gets to him but does his best to pay no mind to it trying to hold back his blush.

As he is reading the sonnet, skimming really, he's memorized all of Shakespeare already.  Greg's words, he looks up at him and meets his intense, but softening, worried eyes - he is nerve wracked.  It takes him a moment to realize what he's saying. _'Pinning... wait... not knowing how someone fe-... is... he messing with me or am I dreaming or... WHAT?'_

Greg smiles softly as Mycroft skims the sonnet, watching the younger teen's face as he realizes what had been said to him. He is nervous as all hell, but he's been watching Mycroft for a while now, curious about him and meeting him by chance the other day just made him like him even more.

"It is, but in the end, after all that which they've gone through he builds up the courage to confess and learns they feel the same. You may never know what you do not know until you ask is the lesson to be had.  To find the courage to pursue your desires..."  Mycroft swallows thickly, staring at Greg as he realizes what he is doing and blushes, looking down at the book, fingers gripping the book.

He chuckles as Mycroft stares down for a moment or two, Greg gently takes the book from Mycroft to set on his desk and takes the younger teen's hands in his. The younger teen intently watching his actions, unable to look him in the face yet.

"Mycroft, I have a bit of a confession.." 

"Y-yes?"  He asks while stuttering, nerves wracking his system.

The rugby player gives a warm smile, rubbing the backs of Mycroft's hands with his thumbs.

"Well, for awhile now, I've been.. Well... Ah..." Greg blushes softly, "I've been _Pinning_... After you..." Greg is struggling, he has to get this out though; he is too far in to quit.

Mycroft is speechless as he listens to Greg, sure he'd faint any second now. He's a genius, nothing in life has prepared him for this type of thing.

"You're smart, brilliant, so very handsome. Some days I walk down the hall and spot you and it would hurt not to be able to run up to you or trace your freckles."

"Greg." Mycroft's face flushes brilliantly, heart threatening to pound out of his chest.  He turns his face away, but his eyes stay focused on Greg, he allows a tiny smile to spread across his face. It is all he can manage anyway.

"You are far too sweet with your words. Everyone likes you, you're captain of the Rugby team, endlessly charming and everyone's friend.  I'm far too... crass for some people... I've watched you too for a while now, I never expected that you... could like ME as well."  Mycroft turns his face back to Greg, embarrassed. "I've never been with anyone, let alone been interested in anyone before." He confesses.

Greg smiles as his crush takes his turn to speak, oh what a lovely blush. He lifts a hand to gently cup Mycroft's cheek, thumb caressing his cheek bone. He feels the near sharpness of it... Mycroft seems to have slimmed down drastically since last year, Greg notes. Hmmm...

"Mycroft you are brilliant, unique, and you're the most handsome guy I've ever met..." He blushes, "None of my past relationships have really worked out. And I've had trouble, but I really haven't felt this way about another person, let alone another bloke... And I _promise_ you, I will never hurt you intentionally and I WILL respect your boundaries... Nothing has to happen if you don't want it to... okay?" 

Mycroft's eyes widen slightly as his cheek is cupped, pink blush deepening into scarlet.  Everything Greg is saying just sounded too good to be true but he seems to be genuine with his words.

"I-I want..." It takes Mycroft a moment to get it out, wanting to do this with Greg. He'd been wanting to since he first saw him during the first year of high school and learned he wasn't a complete arse or an idiot. "I want to kiss you, Greg... if you will allow me." He smiles shyly, never having kissed someone before and Greg has always been a secret object of his desires and he wants it to be him.

The older teen gives a cheeky grin, though he'd be lying if he said he wasn't overly relieved at Mycroft's words. "Of course I will." 

He gently brought the younger closer, leaning closer to press his lips to Mycroft's, releasing a soft happy sigh. 

Mycroft leans into the chaste kiss, hand covering Greg's as it lasts longer than most first kisses do. When they pull away his eyes flutter open, he didn't even know he closed them

"That was lovely," he compliments, blushing still... he may never stop, "tell me this is real Greg." He stares at the rugby player nervously.

Greg gives a soft chuckle, having felt that way at first as well. "Yes, it is very real Mycroft." He smirks a bit, "Would you like a pinch to confirm it?" He smiles a happy lopsided smile, thumb stroking over a lightly freckled and rosy cheek. 

Mycroft smiles and laughs, putting a hand over Greg's. 

"If you insist," he laughs again and pats his hand while softly giggling when he is pinched. 

"Ah, so... um... what does this make us?" Mycroft asks honestly, this is so new to him.

Greg looks down at Mycroft's hands, fingers rubbing over his pale, lightly freckled knuckles.

"Friends, boyfriends, whatever you want us to be..." He looks up to Mycroft with a shy smile and flushed cheeks. 

"Boyfriends?" His heart skips a beat. "I think I'd like that, Greg." Mycroft licks his lips and leans forward, kissing Greg again, he likes his lips; smooth and full. He has a unique taste.

Greg smirks softly into the kiss, moving his hand to gently stroke through Mycroft's ginger hair.

The older teen decides to push it a bit and swipes his tongue over the seam of the younger's lips with some hesitancy. 

Mycroft makes a small sound of surprise, eyes opening halfway to look at Greg's that are seeming to ask permission.  He slips his eyes closed again, leaning forward to get a bit more comfortable, parting his lips and allows Greg in, thankful to have someone more skilled lead him in this slow dance of their tongues.  It feels nice, kissing Greg, he is gentle and patient with teaching Mycroft who had never kissed before.

Greg, being perched on a stool, isn't in the prime position for a proper snog, but he will live, he just isn't able to get as close to Mycroft as he'd like. Now possessing permission, the older teen tentatively swipes his tongue into Mycroft's mouth, gently and hesitantly exploring, eyes fluttering closed. He didn't want to alarm Mycroft, so he kept the kiss sweet and a bit lazy. 

Mycroft makes a soft noise, slipping closer to Greg, placing a hand on his shoulder and grips the material of his letterman jacket. This kiss is slow and sweet, it causes a slight stir in his pants. Not yet enough to get him fully aroused, Greg certain has his attention.

After a few moments of kissing, they pull apart, Mycroft looks down at Greg, pressing his forehead to his.                                

"That... that felt..." He blushes. "amazing..." 

Greg huffs a chuckle, "Why thank you, you're not too bad at snogging yourself..." He nuzzles against Mycroft's jaw line. 

"Here, let me just-" the older teen scoots his stool closer, so their knees brush... He takes the younger's hand, intertwining their fingers. 

Greg offers him a dashing smile, "As your boyfriend, I'd like to ask you on a proper date." 

Mycroft looks down at their intertwined fingers and smiles before he looks up at Greg again.  That smile... it makes his knees weak... "As _your_ boyfriend, I'd like the graciously accept.." Mycroft beams at Greg and squeezes his fingers lightly, trembling with excitement.

Anticipation for days to come with Greg seeps in, he is just thrilled to be with him.

That feeling won't ever leave either of them for goodness knows how long...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats Mycroft on your first relationship, kiss and having the courage to move forward. Go you Greg for not being a piece of shit jock and went for it! I'm sure you will both be very happy together ^_^


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to the museum!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Niko here! So SOOOO sorry for not updating faster. Life happened... <3 I'll add another chapter faster to make up for it. BUT. I won't if it is crap content. I'd rather not update than post a crap update.

The weekend finds Winston letting the Holmes brothers out in front of John Watson's apartment complex. He smiles brilliantly, waving after the brothers in case they don't need him to drive. He waits patiently to make sure they didn't need him or anything else. (Although he is personally excited about the trip and wants to go too, shhh....)

Sherlock jumps excitedly as Mycroft with walks him up to John's apartment, they were going to have, as Mrs. Watson called it a 'play date' at the museum- Mycroft insisted on the stairs, however, ignored every question his younger brother threw at them. The only answer is 'Good cardio'... to which Sherlock gave him a bewildered look. The younger boy had no idea what a 'play date' was, it sounded ridiculous, but at least he got to see John and go to a museum with him too. 

He smiles as Mycroft allows him to knock on the door. Sherlock reaches up and wraps his knuckles on the door twice. Sherlock's wearing a nice eggplant-purple button down and one of the pairs of jeans Mycroft would let him keep when he started in the new school, along with his chucks as always. 

Mycroft is wearing a full three-piece suit - as usual, he has people to "impress" ((yes even at fourteen-years-old he has to. He is a Holmes after all)). He smiles at John's mother after she opens the door to greet them.

"Good to see you again ma'am. I'm Mycroft." He re-introduces himself, mostly to be polite.

"Oh, I remember you Mycroft, but yes, please call me Mrs. Watson." The doctor reintroduces herself, her son running up from behind her.

"Captain!" John ducks under his mother's arm and tackle hugs Sherlock. He's in khaki trousers and wearing a light blue dress shirt, a brown tartan pattern sweater vest over it.

Sherlock hugs John tightly, smiling softly, "John!" When he pulls away, taking John's hand in his, fingers laced tightly upon habit.

He peers up at Mycroft and Mrs. Watson, "Are we going now?" He asks excitedly, practically vibrating in his spot.

"Yes, yes boys. Would you like to take my car or shall we go in yours- if you have one?" Mrs. Watson asks as they exit the door of their apartment and she locks it behind her. She looks down at the two young boys holding hands and smiles, a bit curious, mostly happy her son is happy. She turns to Mycroft for the answer to her question.

"We'll take ours, ah- plenty of room." Mycroft blushes... he didn't want to "show off" any more than he wanted to prove that both Sherlock and himself could care for John if need be.

"Yea! mum, you'll love the car Winston drives us in, it is sooo big!" John pulls Sherlock down the hall, heading to the lift, a slight bounce in his step that is nearly always there when it's just the two of them.

"They are sure fond of each other." Mrs. Watson comments softly, before trailing after the young boys, smiling at Mycroft.

"They are," Mycroft offers his arm to her, being a gentleman. "M'lady."

"Thank you, sir." She laughs, taking his arm as they follow after the two boys.

Sherlock snickers softly as John describes his family's car, "Come on, John!" He pulls John into the lift, letting him hold the door for Mycroft and Mrs. Watson.

"The museum we're going to had just gotten a new exhibit on bees!" Explain Sherlock excitedly, "It's that brilliant!"

He squeezes John's fingers, smiling brilliantly at his friend.

"Did you bring Bilbo for that? He should see some live bees in action," He whispers to Sherlock as the lift goes down.

Sherlock looks back to his brother and Mrs. Watson, expression slightly guarded until he turns back to John, "Yes, I did." He presses his index finger to his lips. His precious bee named Bilbo is in the limo, inside his bag.

"Should we consider lunch for after? My dear Johnny tends to get hungry every few hours." Mrs. Watson asks Mycroft, still holding his arm. She likes this boy, polite and gentlemanly - would be good for Harry to be friends with. Too bad she is a lesbian, good family to marry into... Still, maybe he could be a good influence on the fifteen-year-old rebel.

"That would be nice, we could go to the cafe next to the museum. There is a surprising variety there to choose from!" Mycroft offers a smile.

"Lovely." Mrs. Watson returns the smile.

They exit the lift, enter the lobby and head for the door. Mycroft thankful that he had made sure of having Winston is waiting outside with the car, even if it was just in case... he is smiling brilliantly. Mycroft said he wasn't sure what they needed, but clearly they nee- wanted him to drive them around. He is, in fact, the BEST driver in England. Yes. He means to brag since not many people can afford his over the top services.

"Mrs. Watson, this is Winston, Winston this is John's mum, Mrs. Watson." Sherlock introduced the two quickly before he pulls a door open for John, climbing in after his friend. 

"Hello." Mrs. Watson and Winston get each other, everyone climbing into the car, once they are settled, Winston takes from the curb, heading to the museum.

"I want to see the NASA exhibit and the African wildlife exhibit." John beings, tittering about his recent interest in space and the African Savannah. 

Mycroft chats with Mrs. Watson, curious about the woman, she is lovely. He wonders what Mr. Watson is like. It is nice to talk to a parent who is... Mycroft derails that train of thought just after it leaves the station. He's fourteen - going on fifteen in a few months. He can't be a 'parent'.

Mrs. Watson also observes Mycroft, there is something off about him. He is very mature, but.............. far too mature for his age.

Sherlock smiles as John talks, still gripping his hand. After John finishes Sherlock speaks, "Here, wait a minute, " the younger boy pulls his backpack from the floor, and unzips it, he pulls out a heavy (to a child) book and hands it to John. It's a book on the African continent's animals and stuff all about them. "It's for you. I noticed one day when you came over to do homework in the library how you liked this book. So I asked Mycroft if we could find another copy for you." 

Sherlock blushes lightly and looks away, hugging his pack to his chest as he quietly waits for John to speak. 

John's eyes widen as wide as possible when he is handed his gift, staring at the title of the book, his mouth agape.

"Sh-Sherlock." He looks up at his best friend, the biggest smile on his face.

"Thank you sooo much!" He puts the book down and grabs Sherlock in a tight hug, affectionately kissing his friend's cheek. "I love it."

Mrs. Watson looks over at the boys in surprise. She didn't know they were... or even could be that close and is amazed at the fact Sherlock gifted her son something so personal to him.

Mycroft smiles, glad he helped Sherlock get John that book. 'It's just... precious.' He's unaware he had quietly muttered this aloud, blushing at the look John's mother gives him.

Sherlock gives a huffed laugh, accepting John's spontaneous hug. He wraps his arms around his friend, a smile tugging on his lips. "You're welcome, John." His gaze flicks to his brother's, eyes sparkling with appreciation.

He pulls away from John with a smile, slipping his bag from his lap to the floor but not before opening it slightly so John could see Bilbo. He presses his finger to his lips briefly before he gives a giggle and zips his bag closed. 

John giggles upon seeing Bilbo and then cuddles into Sherlock, opening his new book to start reading it with his best friend.

Mycroft watches the boys and smiles, his pocket buzzing, he pulls it out and finds that Greg had texted him. A blush joins his smile.

"Who is that?" Mrs. Watson asks politely. "They've certainly got you smiling."

"Ah... um... my boyfriend," Mycroft says after a minute, unsure if he should tell her that.

"Oh," Mrs. Watson blinks. So he is homosexual, even if Harry was straight it wouldn't work. "What is he like?" She asks.

Mycroft can't help the relieved feeling from washing over him at her easy acceptance. "Greg... he's lovely, a rugby player." Mycroft begins telling her about him, feeling a warmth in his chest talking about Greg. He doesn't realize this is the first parent-child relationship of sorts he's experiencing even if it's only slight.

Sherlock happily scoots close to John to cuddle and read. Though his head snaps towards Mycroft as he speaks with Mrs. Watson about the rugby player who'd helped him and John. 

"Wait, you're dating him?" A grin breaks out over his usually gloomy face, "I knew you fancied him!!" The younger Holmes giggles, turning to John, "I told you, didn't I?" 

John giggles and nods to Sherlock. He remembered Sherlock had figured it out rather quickly. "I remember, they were really smiley with each other."

Mycroft flushes bright tomato red at his brother's comment. "Y-yes......... He asked me out the other day." The ginger looks down at his lap, embarrassed, staring at Greg's text, it was simple but sweet. 

'Hope you and Sherlock enjoy the museum! Text me when you are free, wanna plan a date with you. :)' - G

The younger boy turns back to John, asking him about one of the animals in the book. 

"Don't be embarrassed Mycroft." Mrs. Watson puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. Mycroft smiles at her weakly, still flushed.

Sherlock snickers softly, "It's okay, Myc, I approve," he gives a small smirk, "but I will beat him up terribly if he harms you." He says dead serious. 

Mycroft laughs, Sherlock had said that before and it was endearing. 

Mrs. Watson smiles and shakes her head. They are sweet, just so sweet, polite and endearing. The way Mycroft is with Sherlock, the way Sherlock just treats John like he's the most important and most perfect person in his life.

John happily explains things about the antelope he has learned, to anyone who would listen. Sherlock is his most captivated audience member, settling his cheek on John's shoulder to watch as his friend reads.

-

Soon they're at the museum and the youngest Holmes pretty much drags Mycroft and John across the car lot after they all hop out of the car and makes sure they're ready for such treatment. 

Mrs. Watson and Winston share an amused smile with each other at the boy's actions.

"Shall we?" Winston offers his arm to Mrs. Watson, a gentleman like Mycroft, seeing as he is the one who instilled such behaviors in him - not their late father.

Sherlock's pulling them makes him smile, he clutches Sherlock's hand in return as they run, Mycroft keeping up easy enough but only because of his long legs.

"Hurry up, Mycroft!" Sherlock tugs slightly on his big brother's hand before releasing it kindly as he and John start running up the museums massive set of stairs at its front.

He looks to John with a bright smile, squeezing his hand. Sherlock was so happy to have a friend, someone who likes some of the same stuff the little genius did. 

"I'm coming Sherly!" Mycroft rushes to chase after his baby brother, glad he released his hand when decided to make them move faster. Somehow John keeps up. Mycroft - not a runner, just accepts he's doing his best to keep up, as he knows his baby brother accepts.

"I'm so excited!" John exclaims once inside the lobby, waiting to pay the entrance fee. He is bouncing where he stands, still clutching Sherlock's hand. "Oh, I bet they have an insect exhibit and one for dinosaurs and I really want to see the Tyrannosaurus-Rex Skeleton." John goes on about what else he wants to see, so thrilled about nearly everything in the museum.

Sherlock smiles softly as John speaks excitedly, the younger boy was extremely happy he'd decided to ask John over to the museum. They stood by the counter dutifully, as if guarding the spot until Mycroft, Mrs. Watson, and Winston arrive.

When the two adults and his big brother arrive he flashes them a bright smile. 

"Come on Myc!" John says with a big grin.

"I'm coming," Mycroft says for the millionth time that morning. He walks up to the counter with his personal credit card (entrusted to him by his mother and Winston)

"Three adults and two children," Mycroft informs the attendant. It does not occur to him that being under the age of sixteen... he is still technically a child.

"Forty pounds. Adults are ten, children five. Special price because it's before noon." The woman hands over the tickets and has Mycroft sign the receipt.

"Oh thank you Mycroft, you didn't have to pay for me and John." 

"We invited you. It's my pleasure." Mycroft gives Mrs. Watson a brilliant smile and passes out the tickets. 

"Come on Captain!" John pulled Sherlock by the hand toward the first exhibit, modern art.

Sherlock chuckles softly as he's dragged away by his friend. As they stop at the first price of art, the younger boy scowls.

"I never really got modern art." He sighs softly, pouting a bit. The taller boy looks to his friend skeptically, "How about you, John?" 

John shrugs and pulls Sherlock along to the next painting.......... of a pineapple. That's it.

"No, it doesn't seem like art... I drew a pineapple when I was three." John giggles and sees the sign for the Geology exhibit. "Oh! Fossils! Come on Captain!" John continues pulling his best friend along by their near fused hands.

Sherlock laughs at John's words, then hurries to catch up with John, despite him having long legs, and John short ones, his older friend could be surprisingly fast. 

"Okay, I'm coming." The pair rushes into the new exhibit, Sherlock taking lead, pulling his friend to each piece of the exhibit excitedly... As they went about the younger boy started to explain things to his friend, also listening to what John added. 

"Excited little ones, aren't they?" Mrs. Watson says, just looking at the art and following the boys.

"Sherlock hasn't ever been this happy until he met John... they are good for each other," Mycroft informs Mrs. Watson, smiling softly, but a bit sad that his baby brother didn't have a friend like this for the first seven years of his life. Though the sadness is gone, John is here now and THAT is what is important.

They make their way through the exhibits the adults giving the boys their distance. Soon the NASA exhibit comes up. A to-scale rocket ship is in the center of the room.

"Sherlock. Look at how big it is! It's amazing!" Join walks around the exhibit, his hand on the divider bar, other hand's fingers are still laced with Sherlock's.

"I still think it'd be cool to go to space..." He says thoughtfully.

Sherlock dutifully follows John, he doesn't have the biggest interest in space, it was minuscule compared to John's interest in space and rockets, though the younger boy really enjoyed the stars.

"I suppose it'd be interesting, imagine the experiments that could be done in zero gravity," he muses softly, squeezing John's hand, with a soft smile. 

"I don't suppose the years of training it would take to become an Astronaut would be worth it, do you?" John hardly waits for an answer, moving on, past the facts and real rocket fragments and meteors and projections of the galaxy. 

Sherlock pouts slightly as his friend speaks, "Well, astronauts also need to be proficient in maths and sciences, so not totally not worth it, I'm mean it's space." He explains though he knows how much John hates those two subjects... even though he needs both for being a doctor as well... Sherlock shakes his head and decides he shouldn't bother with such things at least a decade away from them as John starts to drag him to the next exhibit.

"Oh, Oh! It's the exhibit you wanted to see." John points to the next hall, the bee exhibit. There is a live hive in the center, the bees enclosed in a screen house. "Bees!"

A large grin spread over Sherlock's tiny Cupid's bow lips, "Oh, brilliant!" He takes the lead, moving around the exhibit ecstatically, "A live hive, oh this is fantastic! Look, John!" He pulls his friend beside him to look at the live bees working away, get as close as they possibly can.

"Wow!" John clings to Sherlock as they observe the beehive in awe. The sound of buzzing fills the room, the bees flying around in search of flowers to pollinate. Of course, there are none, but that doesn't matter, the beekeeper takes good care of them.

"Sherlock, there is a show in fifteen minutes, the beekeeper will tell us all about bees." John vibrates with excitement for his friend, knowing how much he loves the creatures. Sure the NASA exhibit was cool, but he really wants to see the African exhibit.

Sherlock grins, turning to spot his brother along with Mrs. Watson and Winston nearby, who he noticed had been allowing them to explore freely with the adults watching them at a distance. He drags John over, practically bouncing with excitement.

"My! My, there's a show in fifteen minutes! Can we stay and watch?" The younger boy asks, swinging his and John's intertwined hands. 

"Ah," Mycroft looks up at the sign that informs them of the scheduled show times for the bees and then to the boys who are bouncing with excitement.

"Sure, why not." Mycroft smiles, wanting them to get the most out of this. It is impressive to have two young boys were thrilled about learning, more so than watching mind-numbingly stupid cartoons.

"Yay! Thanks, Myc!" John squeals happily, clinging to Sherlock's hand.

"You are very welcome John." 

Sherlock grins softly and tugs on Mycroft's sleeve until his brother crouches to his level. The younger boy presses a quick kiss to his brother's cheek, whispering quietly; "You're the best big brother." He then moves back to the hive with John, excitedly watching the bees.

Mycroft's face lights up as he flushes with pride and love for his brother, he loves it when Sherlock is receptive to his affections and returns them even. It has been happening more since John entered their lives.

When the beekeeper comes out, there are a few people there, but they are the youngest by far. Sherlock makes sure no of the adults in their group can see and pulls out Bilbo, tucking him under his arm so he can 'watch' with John and him.

John listens and watches in awe. The bees are just incredible, the sound they make is so interesting - relaxing even.

Sherlock stares up at the beekeeper, absorbing everything that the man says greedily. After the show is over and the beekeeper lets them asks question's, the younger boy's hand shoots up immediately. 

The tall boy gives a grin as the beekeeper answers his questions, squeezing John's fingers. He is almost vibrating out of his skin, something akin to the buzzing of the bees...

John giggles at his best friend's excitement, asking his own question when Sherlock is done. Soon they are done, the beekeeper leaves and John turns to Sherlock as he's tucking Bilbo back into his bag.

"Now I wanna raise bees. It'd be so coooooool!"

Sherlock chuckles softly, "I've always wanted to retire to the country and keep bees when I'm older." He gives John a small smile, squeezing his fingers again and moving him over to the adults. 

"You're seven." John giggles. "How long is always?" They look at the next exhibit not as cool as the bees, that's when they enter the dinosaur exhibit and he drags Sherlock to the T-Rex skeleton.

"Awesome!" He exclaims when it came into view, still listening to his best friend.

"My whole life." Sherlock plainly states to John's previous question. "I just want to move to the countryside away from the stupid people - I want you to come too of course!" The taller boy smiles as he's dragged away. He smirks softly as John goes all wide-eyed at the dinosaurs.

"Aw! Thanks, Captain." He beams at his best friend as they arrive at the T-Rex skeleton.

Sherlock allows himself to be pulled to the T-Rex skeleton, "I admit it's impressive.." He frowns slightly, "But they were extremely flawed creatures, huge heads, tiny arms, small brains..." 

"Doesn't that make the chicken a flawed creature? They are closely related- if not directly." John gives that tidbit of information as he drags his friend around the skeleton.

The three adults looking at different things in the room, occasionally looking over at the boys. When the two of them are stopped staring up at the dinosaur, Mycroft decides this is the perfect time for a picture. He whips out his phone and snaps a flash free photo of the two boys with their necks craned to look up, fingers interlaced as they stand shoulder to shoulder. Mycroft's heart warms; he's happiest when Sherlock is happy.

Sherlock chuckles softly, "But at least chickens have wings and small heads." He giggles softly, following his friend faithfully around the exhibit, absorbing information as the pair chats. 

"True..." John mummers in agreement, moving to the next couple displays in the room and head toward the exit to move on. He sees that it is the exhibit that he wanted to see the most. "Hurry up Sherlock!" John demands as they head toward the last exhibit, the African animals exhibit.

"I wanna see if they have anything on cheetahs." 

Sherlock rolls his eyes as he follows- is tugged along by John, "John, of course, they do! What museum's African exhibit doesn't have cheetahs?" 

"It's one of the savanna's most important and interesting big cats." He begins spewing off random facts, glad that his best friend is listening intently even though they are running to the exhibit. 

There are 'NO RUNNING' signs sparsely scattered around the museum, the security guard doesn't say anything as the boys run by him, the boys were genuinely just thrilled to learn, they weren't fooling around. They have a purpose- a goal - a thirst for knowledge. "Those boys are absolute sweethearts." He compliments Mycroft, Mrs. Watson, and Winston as they trail after them.

"Thank you." The three of them say simultaneously to the security guard, all three wearing ridiculous grins at the compliment. 

"The bad ones don't have cheetahs!" John exclaims, nearly yanking Sherlock's arm out of its socket when he sees the cheetahs by the African elephants.

Sherlock huffs a soft chuckle before shooting a soft but still semi-fierce glare at John.

"John, you're going to dislocate my shoulder!" He whines softly, blowing his curls from his face as he follows John over. But still, a smile curls his lips as he watches John excitedly stare at the big cats.

"Sorry!" John gives him a toothy grin, silently promising to be more careful. They get to read the information on the Cheetahs, smiling widely. Fascinating. He goes to every part of the room, reading everything on all of the animals. After a while, they are done and John's stomach growls.

"I'm starved." He giggles with realization. They've seen nearly the whole museum, it's about time for lunch. They saw what they came here to see and then some. They can always come back, John figures to himself.

Sherlock faithfully follows John, happily looking over the information with a small smile. 

Though he frowns when he hears John's stomach, he's not all that hungry, and he's a bit down that they've been through the whole museum - except the boring parts. Well... boring to them; they have seen the exhibits they came to see and then some.

He takes John's hand and leads him back to the adults. 

"We're done," John announces to them.

"Already?" Mycroft asks, raising his eyebrow. He's not used to Sherlock being ready to leave until closing time.

"Hungry Johnny?" Mrs. Watson asks, knowing her son well- she did birth and raise him.

"Yea..." John says sheepishly, still smiling. Mummy is the ONLY person allowed to call him that... except maybe Sherlock... Maybe.

"To that cafe, you suggested then Mycroft?" She asks, making Mycroft smile.

"Yes, let's. Come on Sherly, John." John pulls Sherlock along as they head for the exit, the cafe in walking distance from the museum.

Sherlock huffs, "Don't call me Sherly, or I'll call you Myky..." He pouts slightly before he follows John, striding beside him. Mycroft just rolls his eyes at his brother.

The group carefully crosses the street and enters the cafe. Sherlock immediately chooses a window seat where John can sit next to him. The younger boy kicks his feet slightly as everyone else sits, eyes on his friend. 

With everyone settled at the table, a waitress comes by with menus and takes the drink order.

John and Sherlock share a menu, John orders a root beer, reading the kids menu as Sherlock orders.

"We should do things like this more often, John thrives on the attention of his friends." Mrs. Watson makes conversation.

"I agree, I have a busy schedule with my studies and my extracurricular activities but we should try to do it more often," Mycroft adds in, ordering water for himself, being self-conscious of his calorie intake.

John looks to Sherlock with a smile at the thought of them spending more time together like this more often.

Sherlock orders a cherry coke, smiling warmly as he listens to the adult's information. The younger boy interlaced his fingers with his friend's, still kicking his feet lightly. 

"What are you getting John?" He asks quietly. 

John stares at the silly paper kids' menu a moment longer before setting it down. He remembers how little Sherlock eats.

"Want to share fish and chips?" John asks with a soft smile, proud he remembered this about his best friend. Friend's are supposed to know and remember things like that- especially about their best friends!

"Yeah!" Sherlock agrees, glad his best friend just always understood - always knew.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, so this is Lady, I've been doing most of the editing and posting for me and Niko's stuff here on the archive, because school stuff and work are taking such a toll on my available time, I'm handing over the reins to Niko for the rest of what we've written so far. We'll still be collaborating on any new chapters (I'll mostly be reading them over and maybe minor editing, then we'll see), I hope you guys keep enjoying our kidlock story!


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